Forever Is A Long Time
by koalakoala
Summary: A collection of chronological one-shots featuring Rosalie and Emmett. Their story, from after Rosalie saves Emmett, through the whole series, and after.
1. Grizzly Bears and Golden Eyes

**A/N: **So this is a semi-sequel to A Piece of my Happily Ever After, which is now deleted.

If you want me to write a certain scene, please include it in a review. Just so you know, these will go in chronological order. Requests for a scene from a time already passed will probably not be considered, (because it's a pain to re-post every chapter) so if you have an idea, don't hesitate to say it!

Although A Piece of my Happily Ever After was rated K+, I've decided to make this rated T. There are certain, more mature themes planned in this story that it seemed prudent for the change.

This is dedicated to my main reviewers from A Piece of my Happily Ever After: **TillITryIllNeverKnow**, **brokenfromthepast**, and **twilightrocks999**. Thank you so much!

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Twilight, Rosalie, or Emmett; Stephenie Meyer does.

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**FOREVER IS A LONG TIME.**

* * *

**Emmett.**

It was exhilarating to run as a vampire. It was like nothing else. I loved all of it: the rush of wind, the crystal clarity of everthing, the amazing _speed_.

Even after months of being a vampire, I still couldn't get enough of it. I pushed my legs faster. Rosalie laughed freely behind me. "I think we should stay inside the state lines, Emmett," she called out.

I fake groaned, turning around and catching her in my arms.

"Emmett!" she protested, "Aren't we supposed to be hunting? Not running all the way to the Canada?"

"Fine, fine." I sighed exaggeratedly, releasing her. "Now, where are those grizzlies?"

Rosalie groaned. "Not this again!"

I had developed a...well, appetite for grizzly bears. Partially because their blood tasted much better than elk or deer. Closest to humans, I guessed. And it was partly for revenge, of a sort. I still hadn't gotten over the fact I'd almost died because of them. Almost.

The only reason I hadn't was because of the person who was currently in my arms.

She sighed. "There are three to the north, by the river. One for me, two for you?" I grinned, and Rosalie rolled her eyes in response.

I started to run in the direction she had said. I heard her follow me, just a few feet behind.

* * *

**Rosalie.**

Emmett was such a child sometimes. Not that I particularly minded.

His humor and carefree spirit had made everyone laugh in the past few months. He had filled two roles that were missing in my life: a companion and a child. A part of me still yearned for a real baby, but that was, of course, impossible. I pushed these thoughts from my head, forcing myself to the present.

I had already finished draining my own bear, and he was still busy irritating his first. I snapped the spine of the second, so it couldn't run away. If Emmett had his own personal grudges to work out, I didn't mind. We had forever, anyway.

I looked down at myself. Ugh. My clothes were dirty from the ground, with blotches of scarlet blood staining the fabric. I wiped my hand across my mouth to remove any trace of blood from my face. I really needed a mirror...

"Hurry up, will you, Em?" I called, sinking to I need to fix my hair."

"A few more minutes," he said distractedly, letting the bear drag its claw across his chest. The only effect it had was to tear his shirt into a ragged mess.

It roared, still standing its ground. Oh, no. That was a big mistake for the bear.

I winced and covered my ears as Emmett roared back loudly. The grizzly finally seemed to realize its inferiority. It started to lumber away, but Emmett was faster.

With a loud yell, he pinned the bear to the ground in less than a second, its spine already snapped. He leaned down to pierce the skin and veins on its neck, and drank eagerly. Within a matter of seconds, he was finished, and already starting on the second. I helped him dispose of the two drained carcasses.

"Aw, Rose, why'd you have to kill the other one? It didn't put up much of a fight dead..." He pouted. _Like a child_, I thought, and smiled wistfully.

"Because," I said patiently, "it would have been in a different state by the time you finished the first." Emmett grinned sheepishly, and pulled me into his arms.

"Sorry," he murmured, tilting my head up to meet his lips.

Our eyes met, and I gasped, jerking away. The color startled me, so different from amber or red, so like my own. They were beautiful, a deep topaz. Shining gold, Emmett's eyes were stunning, perfectly suiting him. He looked confused, along with a little hurt.

"Rosalie?"

I was still surprised, but I managed to say, "Em, your eyes...they're gold."

* * *

**Emmett.**

"Em, your eyes...they're gold."

Shock flooded through me, followed by a surge of happiness. I darted to the river to see my reflection in the water. She was right; they _were_ gold. Finally.

They were shocking, dark golden in color. The smooth-running river reflected my surprised face off its water.

I looked up from the stream and grinned. "Don't you think I look more handsome now?"

Rosalie smiled, rolling her eyes. "Absolutely," she teased, holding out her arms. I hugged her to my body tightly, and she reached up to pull my lips down to hers. My face was mirrored in Rosalie's light gold eyes. Now my own irises matched hers, strange and beautiful all at once. A fierce pleasure surged throughout my body. Now, I truly belonged with her.

"Didn't you say you needed to fix your hair?" I murmured, not making any move to pull away.

"For you, Emmett, I think my hair can wait."

I smiled briefly before capturing her mouth with my own.

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**A/N:** Oh, and just so you know, these will be at least 1,000 words each. If I like a certain one or get a burst of inspiration, though, I'll probably write more than that.

And finally, please, please review!


	2. Crimson Blood and Violet Irises

**A/N: **#2. This one was sad for me to write. It was necessary for the story, to show that everyone makes mistakes, even Emmett. A unedited part was included in _A Piece of my Happily Ever After_. I like this one much better than the first chapter. And it's longer, a plus for you guys. I hope you enjoy reading.

Thanks to: **brokenfromthepast**, for being my 1st reviewer; **twilightrocks999**, for writing such a great review, being my 2nd reviewer, and for the suggestions; **yodeladyhoo**, for being my 3rd reviewer; **TillITryIllNeverKnow**, for understanding my writing sometimes better than I can.

And, of course: the people who story alert and/or favorited this: **Caazzie**, **Obsesive Reader**, **RosealieHale**, and **JezCul666**.

I have a issue. I absolutely want to write their wedding, soon, but I'm not sure if I should have a proposal scene before. Is it important? I don't know if I'll be able to write it, but I can try. So, if you review, please answer the question: proposal or no proposal? I might put up a poll on my profile, too. Thanks for your help.

**Disclaimer:** Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight, not me.

**Warning: **Vampiric violence and death in this chapter. If you're squeamish, don't read.

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**Emmett.**

It was so easy to ignore the smell of human blood, as long as I wasn't thirsty. Humans did smell appealing, but I didn't want to cause them harm.

I still remembered my own human life, though the details were slowly fading from memory. My life as a vampire was so much clearer, so much better. I didn't regret the fact I would never age, or never die. I had everything I wanted, and more. Everything I wanted.

A display in the window of a store caught my attention. Glittering diamond rings sparkled through the glass, pristine and beautiful. A woman smiled at me, standing outside the door. "Would you like any help, sir?" she called out. I politely declined. Maybe someday, I thought. Someday...soon.

I strolled casually along the sidewalk, at a human's irritatingly slow pace. I longed to run, to feel the wind speeding by like a soft caress. The humans wouldn't even know I had moved.

I sighed quietly. I had refused to let Edward come with me, _again_, to make sure I wouldn't attack someone. I wasn't a pathetic, uncontrolled newborn anymore. Couldn't they see, after all this time, that I wouldn't?

The sound of creaking metal drew my attention. I turned to find the source.

Someone, a girl, was swaying slightly on a swing, alone in the deserted park. Nothing special, though I had hardly expected it to be.

I sensed a breeze coming, and pretended to draw my jacket in for warmth, not that I needed it. The scent that came with the wind hit me with sudden, unexpected force. Nothing had prepared me for it.

It was undeniably human blood, the sweetest blood I'd ever smelled. Ultimately uncomparable to anything I'd ever experienced.

It was all I could think about. I acted instinctively, without thinking.

Before I even had time to think about it, I was suddenly crouched over the girl, my teeth piercing deep into her neck. My mouth closed around the wound sloppily, hastily. I could've just as easily been kissing her. But I wasn't. I was a bloodthirsty vampire, and she was my prey.

The fresh blood flowed smoothly down my throat, warm and unbelievably delicious.

I didn't stop until she was drained, empty. I raised my head slowly from the corpse. A drop of crimson blood dripped from my lips. I wanted more, more, more. Human blood tasted wonderful, more wonderful than I could have imagined.

My eyes traveled to the face, and what I saw made my stomach turn, the delicious blood threatening to remove itself from my stomach.

Her skin was a pale white, drained of blood. She was just a _child_, around eight or nine. The messy wound at her neck marred her otherwise unblemished skin, an ugly reminder. The once white dress she wore was dirty from mud and bloodstains. Her eyes were still open to the twilight sky, wide and glassy in death.

But the color! They were a dark blue, almost purple. Like violets. A memory floated back to into my mind.

_"Once, Royce told me that my eyes were like violets, and they started appearing along with the roses."_

This girl, this child, could have grown up. She could've had a happy life. She could have been someone's Rosalie.

Blind horror clouded my mind, overwhelming everything else. Even the smell of her blood. I staggered to my feet.

What had I done?

* * *

**Rosalie.**

Emmett was _never_ late. Never.

My thoughts were frantic as Edward and I searched the streets for him. His scent was probably covered by the crowds of people who had walked this same street.

"Are you _sure_ he's not here?" I asked him for the thousandth time. He sighed. "I'm not sure; there's too many people. But I can't find his thoughts, so probably not."

"Could you be missing him somehow?"

"It's unlikely."

"That's a great help," I said sarcastically, turning away to scan the crowds. _Oh, Emmett, where are you? _Edward's hand caught my wrist, hard, forcing me to look at him.

"Look, Rosalie, fighting about this won't help us find Emmett."

"Fine," I huffed, "What's your suggestion, then?"

"I think the best solution is to wait. He'll eventually come home, sooner or later," he said. "Can't we keep looking? Please?" I heard the fierce desperation in my voice.

"It's no use. We have no idea where to look." I reluctantly agreed, despair edging my tone.

Edward's voice was as soft as I had ever heard it. "I'm sorry, Rose."

I didn't reply.

* * *

Carlisle's endless pacing was beginning to get on my nerves. Esme's dry sobbing wasn't much better.

It was a good thing I had better composure. I had to believe he would come back. He _had_ to.

Edward played his piano quietly in the background, his fingers moving gracefully along the keys. Suddenly he stopped playing and stiffened, his eyes flashing my way.

"Is it him?" I demanded, "Is he close?" His light golden eyes were unreadable. "He wants to talk to you," was all he said. "Alone."

Carlisle was embracing Esme, who was smiling in relief. "Go to him," she said. I darted out the back door.

"Emmett!" I called, "Emmett, where are you?" I sensed him nearby, in the surrounding forest.

"It's nice to see I've got a welcoming party." His voice was bitter, almost angry. I saw his form in the shadow of a tree, his head bowed as if in shame. "Em...," I began, What's wrong? "Where were you? I was so worried, we all were..."

"You don't know? Rose, I'm so sorry. I never meant to do it," Emmett said, his voice tinged with sadness.

"Do what?" He looked up from the ground to meet my eyes with his own. I gasped.

They were glowing crimson, fresh with _human_ blood. "Haven't they found the body?" he asked, with a bitter smile.

* * *

**Emmett.**

I saw the shock on Rosalie's face as her dark golden eyes met my own. I heard her gasp in surprise. But the anger, the blame I had expected were noticeably absent.

Why wasn't she upset?

"Oh, Emmett," she said, and then her arms were wrapped around me. _Comforting _me. The indifferent facade cracked.

"It smelled so good. I couldn't help it," I half-moaned, burying my face in her soft hair. Her hands stroked my back, soothingly. "It's okay, it's okay," she murmured.

"She was just a girl, a _child_," I said, "And her eyes-" I shuddered."I'm sorry, so sorry..."

"It's not your fault."

"Then whose fault is it? The girl's?" I shrugged out of her embrace. My hands clenched into fists. "Don't tell me it's not my fault. It is."

"Emmett, you shouldn't blame yourself for this. We'll get through it; we'll move away, far away."

"That won't make it right. I took her whole life away!"

"I've killed people before," she reminded me. "They deserved to die," I insisted. I would have killed them myself, if Rosalie hadn't already. They were monsters.

"It was my fault. I should have been with you." This was ridiculous. Now she was trying to blame herself? I glared at her. "It's _not_ your fault, Rose."

"Then don't say it's yours, either." I sighed. It wouldn't do any good to argue back.

"This is all wrong," I groaned, and I let Rosalie's arms encircle me again. I heard the others approach. "Oh, Emmett," Esme cried, her face pained from my suffering. She hugged both me and Rosalie. "Don't dwell on this. It's happened to all of us. Well, except for Carlisle..."

"I'm sorry," I repeated, meeting Carlisle's eyes. The shame must be clear in my eyes, but there were no disappointment in Carlisle's, only forgiveness. His arms came around all three of us.

"Don't I get to join in on the family hug?" Edward asked, a smile in his voice as he clapped me on the back. "Cheer up, Em. You're not a real vampire until you've killed _someone_." I grinned back, but it was a little forced.

All of us were truly, sincerely together in that moment. A family.

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**A/N:** So, as you can see from this chapter, family is one of the main themes in this story, alongside with love. I hope you all liked this, because I did. Next up will be a surprise, because I only just thought of it. It'll be another family-themed one, but don't worry, there'll be more R/E stuff soon!

I hope you all caught the reference to a proposal in this chapter, I had fun including that in. But, if you review, please answer if you think I should have a chapter with Emmett's proposal. Or should I just have a flashback sort-of thing in the wedding one? I have a feeling it will be incredibly cheesy if I try to write it, but please review and tell me your thoughts.

Please review! Thank you.


	3. Sweet Melodies and Piano Lessons

**A/N:** Here's number three. If you have any more suggestions, please put them in a review. Thanks a lot!

So, about this chapter, I love exploring Rosalie and Edward's relationship. They both hate each other, but, in a way, they do love each other. In a platonic way, of course. Sorry if you want more Rosalie/Emmett stuff, but there'll be a lot of that coming up soon. Like the wedding and such. But to me, this was a good idea to do; it's inspired from the information in the books. It's also all in Rosalie's perspective, which is rare. I usually like to have multiple POVs from different characters in one chapter.

I've made an important decision about this. There will be a proposal scene, in the next chapter. And, just so you know, finals are coming up, so I might be a little slower to update.

Thanks so much to:** brokenfromthepast, teamEMandRO, sparkleyangel, TillITryIllNeverKnow, twilightrocks999, yodeladyhoo, Caazzie, Obsesive Reader, RosealieHale, JezCul666, VampireNight, and Joie23. **

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Twilight. It all belongs to Stephenie Meyer.

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**Music is what feelings sound like. **- Author Unknown

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**Rosalie.**

"Rosalie, could you come here a moment?" I was startled as Edward's voice interrupted my thoughts. I put down the silver brush I was using and entered the living room in less than a full second.

"What do you want?" I asked at once, slightly annoyed. I tossed a lock of golden curls over my shoulder and regarded him coldly. He was sitting at the baby grand piano, his eyebrows creased in thought.

"I want your opinion on something," Edward said. "What do you think of when you hear this?"

His hands glided along the crisp white keys of the piano, crafting a beautiful melody. The notes of the song were unfamiliar, but still oddly familiar. I could hear Carlisle's endless compassion, and Esme's passionate love clearly in the sounds. Was it really possible that music could tell their story, their love?

"It's beautiful," I whispered, afraid to speak too loudly. But he looked displeased with my answer.

"Do you truly believe that?"

"Shouldn't _you_ tell me?"

Edward looked up at me, a smile playing around the corners of his mouth. "Have you played the piano before, Rosalie?" he asked, ignoring my question.

I was startled at his question. I actually had, though not a lot.

Fuzzy memories of the grand piano sitting in the parlor of my old house flashed through my mind, bringing a wave of unexpected nostalgia. I suddenly longed to see my mother, my father, my brothers. Would they believe it was really me? I pushed these thoughts away.

"A few times," I said simply, though he had probably heard the answer in my mind.

He got up from the bench and gestured for me to sit down. "It's been a while," I said, running my fingers over the glossy balck and white keys.

I placed my fingers on the right keys, feeling them relax in a familiar position. Hesitantly, I pressed down on one, hearing the sweet sound fill the silence. I sat down on the bench, almost naturally, trying to remember what I had played all those years ago.

"It's easy for us to learn, since we never forget," Edward said, standing behind me. His arms came around me, resting his hands above mine. It felt wrong, to have him touching me like that. Too familiar, uncomfortable. I thought, uneasily, of Emmett.

"Relax, Rosalie," he said, and I could sense him rolling his eyes, "I wouldn't hurt you."

_If you say so_, I thought uneasily. His hands guided mine, weaving their own melody through my fingers. It was surprisingly calming and pleasant, to hear the soft sounds fill the silence.

My confidence grew with every second; the movements of my fingers were more certain.

After a time, Edward stopped guiding me. The sudden change startled me, and the wrong notes were like screams in my ears. It sounded terrible, imperfection. He sat beside me, and ordered, "Keep playing."

When I did not start immediately, he sighed in impatience. "How will you learn if you don't try by yourself?" Without waiting for me to begin, his hands began the song of Carlisle and Esme's love. But there was something missing, I could see that now. A missing link that would join the two parts.

I placed my fingers on the right keys, my hands shaking slightly. I can do this.

Hesitantly, I started playing. Only a couple of notes, at first, then more. The notes that impossibly made sense, that told a story of their own. My part expanded the song, entwining the two pieces together. Because the missing link was their love for each other, a love I could now understand, with Emmett.

As the music faded into silence, Edward spoke quietly. "Thank you, Rose."

I realized this was the first time he'd called me Rose, instead of Rosalie or something insulting. I turned to face him. "For what?"

"Your insight. You can understand their love, while I can't. It was lovely."

"It wasn't much," I said. He was silent for a moment. I realized this was the first time we'd been moderately civilized in a long time, without resentment or arguments. Edward grinned, almost cordially. "A possible first."

I scowled. "And the last. I still hate you."

"Not as much," he said, tapping his forehead with a finger. "I would know." He was right, of course. Not that I'd ever admit it aloud.

"Sure, sure," I said, turning back to the piano to hide my smile.

I heard the sound of Emmett's footsteps, running home. The sound of his booming laugh reached my ears, accompanied with Carlisle's soft one. I rose immediately from the piano.

I'd forgotten how much I hated when he left me, even for a short amount of time. Just this once, I was able to put aside my grudges, the fact that Edward didn't even want me, didn't even think I was beautiful.

Oh, well. At least there was one person in this world who did. Emmett. I itched to run out the door, but I turned to him.

"Thank you," I murmured quietly, "...Edward."

Edward stayed where he was. "You're welcome. It was my pleasure." I was halfway to the door when his voice interrupted.

"Oh, and Rosalie? You _are_ beautiful, just in your own way." I allowed a slight smile to cross my lips as I ran to greet Emmett.

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**A/N:** I hope this didn't bore you too much. I was going to add an Emmett POV at the end, but I decided not to. It gets way more interesting in the next chapter, I promise.

Just so you know, I don't play the piano, so sorry if there's some mistakes about it. This was inspired by Carlisle and Esme's unnamed song, and how Rosalie was the best musician in the family (next to Edward) in the Twilight books.

So, the proposal is the next chapter. I'll try to write it ASAP, but in the meantime, you could always review. Thanks, as always.


	4. Broken Dreams and A Diamond Ring

**A/N:** Finally, the proposal. This is really late, and I apologize for the delay. It took me a while to find the right setting, and I'm still not sure if it's right. The wedding may or may not be the next chapter, I haven't decided yet. But it will most likely be next. Since the last chapter was all Rosalie, this one is mostly all Emmett. I tried to not make it ooze cheesiness, but I'm not sure if I succeeded.

So, 13 reviews so far! I'm grateful to those who take the time to share their opinions. Thanks for the positive feedback for the last chapter.

This takes place in the winter of 1937. I know there's different dialects from different times in history, but I don't focus on it. All my characters will speak normally for today, but with no slang whatsoever.

Thank you to: **brokenfromthepast, teamEMandRO, sparkleyangel, TillITryIllNeverKnow, twilightrocks999, yodeladyhoo, Caazzie, Obsesive Reader, RosealieHale, JezCul666, VampireNight, Joie23, bestfriends002356, bestkeptsecret-bigestmistake, dancergirl7, englishfreckle, and K-dizzlexxx** for reviewing, favoriting, or story-alerting this.

**Disclaimer:** Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer. The song below, Meteor Shower, belongs to Owl City.

**

* * *

**

I can finally see that you're right there beside me

**I am not my own, for I have been made new**

**Please don't let me go,**

**I desperately need you.**

**

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**

Emmett.

"It's snowing!" I heard Rosalie gasp in amazement. I laughed.

"Haven't you seen it before, Rosie?"

She scowled, turning her gaze from the window to me. The fire in the hearth illuminated her face. "Of course."

Snow swirled against the glass, the sky obscured by thick gray clouds. I fingered the ring in the pocket of my coat, deliberating. Not yet...

Rosalie took my other hand in hers. "Let's go outside, Emmett." I let her pull me out the door.

The wind, what would have been strong to humans, barely tickled my skin. Snowflakes fell like rain, though slower and more beautiful. Rosalie tightened the unnecessary scarf around her neck. I reached out to brush the snow from her golden hair, though more quickly fell, eliminating my efforts.

We lay against the snow-covered hill, a few miles from the house, facing the sky. The snow did not melt against my cold skin. In fact, it felt normal, almost warm.

"Do you ever wish you were human, Em?" Rosalie asked quietly, from beside me. She was looking up at the sky, as if she wished she could see the twinkling stars behind the clouds.

"Not really," I answered hesitantly, "Isn't being a vampire better?"

She ignored my question, continuing to avoid my eyes. "Like now. Don't you want to feel the cold, to feel _any_ cold? Don't you want to feel your own heartbeat? To grow old? To sleep, to dream?"

"I—" I began, not knowing how to answer her when we both knew what my answer would be. _No._

"I would give anything to go back, to do it right. A second chance. I wouldn't make the same mistakes."

"Even...even me?" I had to ask, though I had already guessed the answer. Rosalie finally faced me, her eyes pained. I knew the answer just by looking at her, and I turned my face away, up to the gray clouds, to hide my expression. I slipped my hand into my pocket, gripping the tiny gold circle in my hand.

"I'm sorry, Emmett..." she whispered, "But I can't deny it."

"But what does that mean for us? It's just that, I was so preoccupied with figuring out how to ask for your hand, and then I find you would give me up for being _human_!" I gave a quiet, humorless laugh at the end of the sentence.

Rosalie glared at me, fierce and hurt at the same time. "I'm not kidding, Emmett." She rose to her feet, and brushed the snow from her clothes. "Stop joking around."

She thought I was _joking_? Well, I'd prove her wrong. This wasn't the best timing, but that didn't matter. I'd been waiting for the right time, but maybe it just didn't exist.

I stood, only to stoop down to one knee before her. "Emmett—" she began, but I interrupted. I held the ring between two fingers, holding it up between us. I raised my head up to look at her face, bathed in white moonlight.

"Rosalie, I've loved you every single day since the day I met you. Will you do me the honor of giving me your hand in marriage?"

Damn. Where was that articulate speech I had carefully prepared, recited a million times in my head, and drove Edward insane?

There was a silence as Rosalie stared at the ring in disbelief. Her eyes moved to my face, and I couldn't tell what she was thinking. Then she turned away from me, her shoulders shaking with dry sobs.

"Rose?"

"I'm sorry," she said faintly, rubbing her eyes, although there weren't any tears on her face. She would never cry, really cry, again. I remembered her saying, so wistfully,_ do you ever wish you were human?_

"You don't need to apologize to me, Rosalie." I folded her body into my arms, holding her as she sobbed.

**

* * *

**

Rosalie.

I couldn't help but remember that day, only two years ago...

_"Rosalie?" I turned, and saw Royce, alone in the parlor, holding yet another vase of roses. His pale hair hung slightly over his eyes, and my heart quickened._

_"Hello, Royce," I said, reaching over to take the flowers from him. "Do you like my dress? It's new."_

_"Of course, Rosalie." He grinned charmingly, "You always look beautiful." Beautiful. The word floated through my head, spurring waves of happiness. I leaned my nose close to the petals, breathing in the sweet fragrance of rose blossoms. Another dozen, as always._

_"Is there a reason for your coming, or was it only to see me?" I asked, unable to hide my teasing smile._

_He returned the slight grin. "Both, though mostly the latter."_

_"So, what was the reason?" He didn't answer, but took my hands in his. "I've asked your father, but I want your answer, and only yours—" His light blue eyes never strayed from mine, startling in their intensity._

_"Oh," I gasped as he sank to one knee. _

_"Will you marry me, Rosalie?" The ring he held was shiny, its many diamonds glittering in the afternoon light._

_I let out an unladylike squeal and threw my arms around him. "Yes, yes, of course!" He slipped the ring onto my finger, wrapped his arms around me and twirled us around, right there in the parlor._

_"We'll have the grandest wedding in Rochester," he whispered quietly into my ear, "We'll move into my manor; we'll have the most beautiful children...And, of course, the prettiest dresses for my wife."_

_Wife. The title filled me with immense, ceaseless pleasure. His lilting voice painted vivid pictures in my mind. White gowns, huge houses, laughing children...It was all I'd ever imagined, everything I wanted..._

It was so unfair to Emmett. I couldn't forget, couldn't help but remember.

It wasn't that I didn't _want_ to marry him. I didn't want to hurt him with my flaws, the memories that clouded my brain, that made me less than perfect.

Emmett's golden eyes met mine, with a mixture of worry and love prominent in them. "Sorry," I murmured, burying my face in his neck. "Shh," he whispered softly, stroking my back with gentle fingers.

"You don't deserve me, Emmett," I said softly, "I don't deserve _you_."

He sighed, releasing me from his arms. "Don't be ridiculous."

Was I being unreasonable? Possibly, but couldn't he see why? I tried to explain. "Look, Em, I would love to marry you. But I can't give you _anything_; I can't bear your children or cook your meals, or-"

"Was that a yes?"

"Not exactly..."

"But it wasn't a no," Emmett said, smiling. "And who said I wanted food or children?" Then his eyes turned serious. "Rosalie. We both know the reason you're saying that, why you're refusing. It's_ him_."

"I don't know who you're talking about," I lied, refusing to meet his eyes. He was right, of course, but I didn't have to admit it.

"And I can tell you're lying," Emmett said. His voice changed, growing softer, "I really wasn't kidding about wanting to marry you. It doesn't matter to me that you don't think you're good enough. It doesn't matter that I don't think _I'm_ good enough. I don't care about the past. It's our future, together, that's what I want. Just think about it; a new start."

"It's selfish," I whispered, "that I want to say yes."

"Being selfish isn't completely horrible. After all, it is vampiric nature, apparently." He held out the ring again, shiny gold against his pale skin. And, in that moment, I wanted nothing more than to be with him. _A new start_, he had said, _together_.

Slowly, I extended my hand to him. Emmett held it gently, then slid the ring onto the third finger of my left hand. Briefly, his lips pressed against my hand. He looked back up at me, smiling in victory.

"I think this proves it," he said, his grin growing wider.

"Proves what?" I asked, entwining my fingers with his. I barely felt any extra weight on my hand, and I had to look to make sure the ring was still there. It was

"I do love you more."

"You wish," I muttered. But I knew, deep down, that he was right.


	5. A White Dress and Whispered Vows

**A/N:** Merry belated Christmas, and happy early New Year's! I'm sorry if I got some details of this chapter wrong, I haven't been to a wedding in a very long time...Also, keep in mind that this takes place in 1938, so it's not exactly like how weddings are today.

Thanks to my four lovely reviewers: **brokenfromthepast**,** twilightrocks999**,** TillITryIllNeverKnow**, and **sparkleyangel**. I was originally planning to have another chapter before this one, but after your reviews, I had to post this next. I hope you all will stick with me for the next 20 (or so) chapters.

**Disclaimer:** Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight, not me.

* * *

**Rosalie.**

It was an absolutely, incredibly perfect day, the endless blue sky only occasionally interrupted by white clouds drifting past.

I had insisted that we wait until spring to be wed, much to Emmett's displeasure, but he hadn't argued with me. It was the right choice. Spring was light and airy. Free. And all my doubts and fears seemed to fly away in the warm air.

I sighed mournfully, wishing I could see his face, at least. Esme had told me that it was bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the wedding, and although I didn't believe in the silly superstition, she had forbid me to see him.

Nevertheless, I could almost look past that, upon seeing my reflection in the ornate mirror.

Esme herself had made my dress. It was completely different from the one I'd worn on the night I'd tortured and killed Royce, and for that I was glad.

The gown was strapless, made of smooth silk and satin. The train flowed down my body in white waves, elegant and regal. Cream-colored gloves came up to my elbows. Embroidered roses adorned the hem and bodice, in pale thread, only slightly visible against the fabric.

My hair was pinned up, leaving my back bare, but I couldn't even feel the pins against my scalp. A netting of veil only partly obscured my face, held in place by my hair. The blood red color of my lips, the darkness of my painted eyelashes, and the light blush on my cheeks stood out, splashes of color on the paleness of my hair and skin.

I was not only beautiful, but something more. I loved the feeling of beauty, of being so much_ better_ than everyone. It was a flaw, but not a horrible one, in my opinion.

"Are you ready yet, Rosalie? Emmett's going crazy waiting," Edward said, interrupting me. For once, he wasn't critical of my self-absorbed thoughts.

"Nearly," I said, turning my gaze from my reflection to him with difficulty. "What do you think?"

"You look lovely, Rose." I frowned. Lovely?

"If it makes you feel better, it's almost an synonym of 'beautiful,'" he said, grinning. Edward dodged the hair clip I flung at him easily and disappeared downstairs. Good riddance, I thought.

Esme entered the room after he left, holding my bouquet of flowers. Three red roses were surrounded by a few white ones.

"Don't mind Edward, dear," she said, "You do look beautiful." I smiled, accepting the compliment.

"Thank you for the dress, Esme," I said, "I know I wasn't very civilized to you and Carlisle, before." Esme patted my arm. "It was nothing, Rose."

"Where's Carlisle?" I asked, "I think I'm ready." I refused to let any doubt or nervousness enter my thoughts. He appeared at the door, smiling widely.

"Thank you for giving me this honor, Rose," he said softly, as I took his offered arm, holding my bouquet upright with my other hand. And we descended the staircase and slowly walked outside, to the sound of Wagner's march on the piano.

* * *

**Emmett.**

I waited anxiously for Rosalie to finish getting ready. What was taking her so long? It had barely taken five minutes for me to put on the tuxedo Esme had bought, and to comb my hair.

"I think I'm ready," I heard Rosalie say from upstairs, and I drew in a sharp gust of air. I took my place under the gazebo, which had been covered in ribbons and white flowers.

I heard Edward begin playing his piano from inside the house, and I fidgeted nervously. "Calm down," Edward muttered quietly, only slightly audible over the music.

"You'd be just as nervous if this was your wedding," I retorted, not quite as quietly.

Slow footsteps. Ugh, why couldn't they walk any faster?

And then, finally, Rosalie walked through the doorway, escorted by Carlisle. And, in that moment, all the waiting I had done was worth it.

She was beautiful. More than beautiful, truthfully. Her skin sparkled in the morning light, as radiant as the sun. The dress she wore was only slightly whiter than her skin, the train flowing out behind her. A veil covered most of her face, but I could tell Rosalie was smiling. I felt almost euphoric with pure joy, and I couldn't help but smile widely back.

They reached me under the gazebo, and Rosalie took my hand with hers. Carlisle positioned himself in front of us, while Esme and Edward took the only seats. A private wedding as our first, but I'd assured Rosalie that we'd have bigger ones in the future. She had smiled, and made me promise.

Carlisle was speaking, and half of me listened. The other half was too preoccupied gazing at Rosalie, unecessarily re-memorizing her face in my mind, although I'd never forget anyway. My eyes never strayed from hers. The happiness on her face was surely mirrored, if not doubled, on my own.

"Rosalie Lillian Hale, do you take Emmett Dale McCarty to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

Rosalie took a deep breath, and I tightened the grip on her hands. "I do," she whispered.

"Emmett Dale McCarty, do you take Rosalie Lillian Hale to be your lawfully wedded wife?"

I didn't hesitate. "I do," I proclaimed, louder than was necessary.

Then Carlisle gestured to Rosalie to say her vows. She took another breath, and said, "I, Rosalie Lillian Hale, take you, Emmett Dale McCarty, to be my wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish; from this day forward-" and whispered, "...until death do us part."

It was my turn. "I, Emmett Dale McCarty, take you Rosalie Lillian Hale, to be my wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish; from this day forward until death do us part," I said, relishing each word as I said it.

Luckily for us, death would never do us part. I brought forth two plain gold bands from my pocket. One, I slipped onto Rosalie's finger. The other, she put on mine.

Was it really possible that a ring could cause such powerful happiness in me? Well, it was more than a ring. It was Rosalie, and her love, that truly made me this joyful.

Carlisle closed his bible and said, "I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride."

Delicately, I lifted the veil covering her face. We kissed, differently than all the other times before. It was blissfully new, the beginning of our lives together, hopefully for rest of eternity.

* * *

**Rosalie.**

"I'm not eating _that_," Emmett exclaimed, seeing the huge, three-tiered wedding cake, complete with frosted flowers and icing. I laughed, but agreed. While it looked nice asthetically, the smell turned my stomach. I'd never eaten human food as a vampire, and I didn't care to try. According to Carlisle, you had to choke it back up after eating.

Uncooked rice kernels bounced off my skin harmlessly, scattering to the ground. I groaned. "Edward, I told you, no rice!" He held up his hands in surrender, smiling.

Edward began playing his piano again, and Esme and Carlisle started to dance outside. "May I have this dance, my wife?" Emmett asked, holding out his hand. I took it with my gloved hand, without a second thought, and Emmett led me out the door.

And so, we danced. The soft sounds of a piano guided our movements. Warm air swirled around us, but everything remained clear instead of blurred.

I felt almost weightless as I twirled in Emmett's arms, as if he was holding me down to the earth, else I would float up into the quickly darkening sky.

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**A/N:** In case you don't know, people do throw rice kernels at newlyweds after a wedding, sometimes. However, people started to believe that the birds who ate the rice would explode from it expanding in their stomachs, but this is a myth. Before this was proved wrong, birdseed was also sometimes thrown at the couple, so that it wouldn't harm the birds that ate it.

Anyway, please review! Thanks.


	6. Expected Presents and Unspoken Promises

**A/N: **This is the second part of Rosalie's and Emmett's wedding.

Just as a note, I don't like how Emmett is portrayed in a lot of fanfiction as stupid and/or obsessed with sex. No offense to those who write him that way, but it's just not how I see him.

Thank you to: **twilightrocks999**,** Athena of the Greeks**, and** brokenfromthepast**, for reviewing. I found it pretty depressing to only have three reviews for the last chapter, so I hope this one does better.

**Warning:** Sexual references, although nothing graphic. This is rated T, not M.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Twilight. It belongs to Stephenie Meyer.

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**Emmett.**

I couldn't believe it was actually real. That I was married to Rosalie, at last. But I could see and feel the solid gold ring on my finger, and I knew it wasn't just a dream. Besides, vampires can't dream.

But it was so surreal, yet so...perfect. I hated to let Rosalie out of my grasp, but I let her as she danced with Carlisle, and as I danced with Esme.

Esme had reluctantly thrown away the masterpiece of a cake she had made, as no one wanted to eat it, except for Carlisle. But I suspected he was only trying to appease her. I was beginning to feel bad for hurting her feelings by not eating the cake, but she had smiled and told me not to worry about it.

"Edward, come dance," Rosalie called lightly. Startled, he looked up from his piano, frowning. "But what about the music?"

"Oh, just put a record on," she said. Edward did as she requested, fitting a black disc into the phonograph. And the day wore on, time seeming to pass more quickly than usual.

The sky soon grew dark, as twilight gave way to night. And now, Rosalie was back in my arms. And honestly, if I had my way, she would stay there forever.

After a while, Carlisle, Esme, and Edward called us into the house, suspiciously wide grins upon their faces.

I looked at Rose, puzzled, but she wore the same expression as I did.

"It's time for your wedding presents!" Esme announced, still smiling. Rosalie turned to me, delight evident on her face. Esme gestured for Edward to speak.

"Well..." he began, "Emmett, my gift is to let you beat me, one-time only, in a fight." Seriously? I let out a whoop in excitement and pounded Edward on the back. Thanks to his mind-reading, I had never been able to beat him. But just once, I'd be able to. Finally, I'd be victorious.

I opened my mouth to speak, to express my overwhelming gratitude.

"You're welcome, Em," Edward replied, his smile slightly marred with a rueful twist at the corner of his lips.

"Rose? Your present's in here." He turned and entered the garage, motioning for us to follow him.

Rosalie looked uncertain as we followed him into the room. A new automobile was among Edward's and Carlisle's cars. It was colored a shiny, bright red, and a huge white bow was tied across the top. "A car?" she said, raising her eyebrows. Edward grinned. "Trust me, you'll love it."

"Thank you, Edward," she said, kissing his cheek, but I could tell she was still skeptical. Edward rolled his eyes. "You _will_ love it, Rose. Promise. And when am I ever wrong?"

"You're always wrong," Rosalie teased, ruffling his hair lightly. "But still, thank you." To my surprise, Edward allowed the motion and didn't move away from her.

"Ready for ours?" Carlisle asked, his eyes shining with suppressed excitement.

"Of course!" Rosalie exclaimed, hooking her arm through mine. Her joyful smile was almost blinding. Carlisle and Esme led the way, through the house and out into the forest.

I was pretty sure I knew what this present was, and it sent a wave of nervous anticipation and excitement over me.

"Don't tell me it's a...," Rosalie began, but she was startled into silence by the marvel in front of us. So was I. I heard voices chuckling at our reactions. It _was_ a house, like I had guessed. But infinitely better than I'd imagined it'd be.

The house was two-stories tall; large, for just us. The exterior walls were simple yet still extravagant white bricks, with red shingles on the sloping roof and criss-crossing wooden trellises of roses against the pale stone walls. A full wrap-around porch, built of light golden wood, surrounded the house. The wooden door was polished and shiny, startling in contrast to the walls.

Lace curtains hung in every window, with brightly colored flowers growing in the flower boxes.

"It's..." I began, overwhelmed.

"-perfect." Rosalie finished, her eyes wide as she stared at the grand structure before us, unable to tear her eyes away.

"We'd thought you'd like it," Esme said, amused.

Rosalie walked slowly up to the house, and ran her fingers along the smooth wood, breathing in the smell of roses. I came up from behind, my arms wrapping around her waist, my head leaning down to rest on her shoulder. I, too, smelled the sweet flowers, both from the real plants and from Rosalie herself.

"Shall we?" I murmured, gesturing towards the front door. I looked back for the rest of my family, but they had all conveniently disappeared.

She nodded, and I took her hand as we passed over the threshold of _our_ new home.

* * *

**Rosalie.**

Carlisle's and Esme's gift was more than I could've possibly thought dreamed of. How much time had they spent working on this?

The inside of our-it gave me great joy to say it was ours-home was stunning, the beautifully fancy furniture was just as I'd wanted when I dreamed of living with Royce.

"Isn't it gorgeous?" I breathed, running my hand along the soft fabric of an armchair.

"Absolutely," Emmett agreed. He pulled me into the kitchen, which would probably never be used. We then explored the house, starting first with the lower floor, then going to the upper one. I noticed, with slight apprehension, that there were quite a few bedrooms, all furnished lavishly.

We ended up at the largest bedroom, which was actually slightly ridiculous, in my opinion.

The bed was huge and ornate, with white linens that I suspected Esme herself had made. It took up most of the space, with only a large mirror on the opposite wall. As vain as it may be, I was glad to have it.

For a moment, there was silence. Emmett lit one of the gas lamps, illuminating the room with light. He looked from me to the bed, and back. "You know, Rose, you don't have to do this," he murmured.

I pressed a finger to his lips. "Don't you see? I _do_ have to do this. I have to forget what happened. Move on from it all."

I reached up and unpinned my golden curls, falling like a curtain framing my face.

Emmett stroked my bare back gently with the tips of his fingers. I shivered, though not because of fear or old memories. I knew he'd never hurt me like _they_ had. "I love you, Rosalie," he promised, reaching, slowly, for the fastenings of my dress.

"Love you, too, Emmett," I whispered quietly. In the yellow light of the flickering lamp, he pulled me towards the bed.

And, in the fullest way possible, we began a new life, together. Just as he'd promised.

* * *

**Edward.**

I tried, desperately, to tune out Rosalie's and Emmett's thoughts. Did Esme _have_ to build their house so close by?

Quite thankfully, morning came, albeit dreadfully slowly. I caught an image from Rosalie's mind, tinged with shame and sadness. Curious, I stopped my effort to block their thoughts.

_I wonder what Esme'll say_...thought Emmett nervously. I quickly focused on Rosalie as his thoughts turned to her as well, though in a much different way.

_I can't believe _we_ did _this_ much damage_...Rosalie thought, incredulous. And then I saw the same image again.

I laughed out loud.

It was their new house, the one I'd helped build, but at the same time, not it. Because it was in complete ruins, the walls broken, the roof in splinters of wood, the furniture in pieces. Nothing remained but a towering pile of debris in place of their once beautiful house. I rolled my eyes. Carlisle and Esme were most definitely more civilized.

"What is it, Edward?" Carlisle asked, alarmed at my sudden outburst.

"Esme?" I called, unable to resist a grin. "I think you're going to have to build our _lovely_ newlyweds a new house."

* * *

**A/N:** Hope you enjoyed it. If I get at least 4 reviews per chapter, with about 20 more chapters, I'll have over 100 reviews! Wow. I hope we do reach 100 by the time this ends, so please review. Thanks a million.

I might not be able to post a new chapter next week, it depends. Sorry in advance if I don't.


	7. Frustrated Sighs and Written Words

**A/N: **Happy birthday, Martin Luther King Jr. Sorry for the wait, I was finishing and posting my Emily/Sam one-shot. Thanks if you read/reviewed it.

And, of course, thanks for the lovely reviews from: **TillITryIllNeverKnow**, **sparkleyangel**,** twilightrocks999**,** brokenfromthepast**, and **BeccaSucks****.**

**Disclaimer:** Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight. Therefore, I don't.

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**You must stay drunk on writing so reality cannot destroy you.** – Ray Bradbury

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Emmett.

I groaned quietly, nearly inaudibly, but the sound carried, echoing in the silent house. The words on the page seemed to be almost moving, twisting and changing beneath my eyes. They surely couldn't be _English_. Maybe it was in a different language? I closed my eyes, banishing the sight of the black figures taunting me from their white background.

The triumph from the victory I'd won against Edward today, as he had given me as a wedding present, was slowly draining into nothingness.

"Emmett?" Rosalie called, her voice worried.

"It's nothing, Rosie," I said, but she came anyway. I stood and thrust the page aside, wrapping my arms around her, seeking comfort. Her lips pressed softly against my throat.

"What's wrong?" she asked, glancing briefly at the newspaper I'd thrown aside.

"I can't believe Carlisle wants us to go to _school_," I said in disbelief, "when I can't even..." I didn't want to finish my sentence, admit that I couldn't do something. But, of course Rosalie noticed. Her eyes widened. "Em, are you saying you can't read? Or write?"

"Nope," I sighed, leaning to slump onto the couch I'd just vacated. Rosalie looked stricken. "At all?" she asked faintly, though it was more of a statement.

"Only my name," I said, embarrassed to admit it. I hadn't wanted to tell anyone. My whole family was so smart and educated, including Rosalie, and I wasn't. I sighed, frustrated.

Rosalie sat beside me. "You should have told me," Her voice was low, sounding slightly hurt.

"I know. I'm sorry." The words sounded pitiful to my ears. _What a lame apology_, I thought. "Well, I know just what we can do..." Rosalie said, suddenly cheerful, standing up.

"What?"

"I can teach you."

"What?" I said again, baffled. Her, teach me?

"Are you underestimating my abilities, Em?" she asked, smiling. "I know perfectly well how to read and write."

"Of course you do. It's just that..." I trailed off, unable to finish. Rosalie picked up a slate and a piece of chalk. "Okay. You said you can write your name, right?"

She handed me the chalk. Hell, when was the last time I even wrote my name? I stared hopelessly at the blank chalkboard.

Rosalie cleared her throat. "Um, want me to write it first?" she offered. I nodded gratefully. She took the chalk and skillfully wrote what was supposedly my name in big letters across the top.

_E M M E T T_

"Now you try," Rosalie said. I gulped, and slowly dragged the screeching chalk against the slate, mimicking her letters. Or...trying to, at least.

_3 m M 3 T +_

"That looks nothing like yours," I said in defeat.

Rosalie rolled her eyes. "Did you really think you'd do it on your first try?"

"Well, yeah."

"This is going to be harder than I thought," she muttered under her breath, which I managed to ignore. "What did I do wrong?"

"Well, for a start, you wrote your Es backwards." What the hell was an E? I voiced this thought aloud, to which Rosalie looked at me with astonishment. "You don't know the alphabet?" she asked. I looked away, unable to admit that I'd really never been to school or heard of the "alphabet."

Rosalie seemed to be slowly overcoming her disbelief.

"Okay. We'll start at the beginning. You know how there's the sound "a" as in apple? Well, that's the letter A. You write it like this." She erased my pitiful attempt at writing my name and sketched a upwards-facing point with a line across the center. "Now for the second letter. It's the sound "b" as in...baby." She sketched another figure. "Then there's "c" as in car..."

"I feel like I'm five years old," I muttered, but continued to listen to Rosalie as she told and wrote the "alphabet."

Soon, twenty-six letters plus ten numbers were drawn onto the slate.

"Now, when you want to spell words, you just sound out the word, and find the letters that correspond. So, for my name, Rosalie, what letter do you think is first?"

I scoured my memory. _Rosalie. Rosalie. Rosalie_. "R," I said. Rosalie smiled, looking proud of her success as my teacher. "Next letter: Ro-salie."

"O?" I guessed, taking less time to think about it. "Great job, Em," she said, writing the letter. "Next?"

"S," I said, this time with real confidence. I knew I was right before Rosalie confirmed it. "A," I said, before she could ask for the next.

"L," I said, "Then...I?"

"And the last?" Rosalie asked, her eyes sparkling with mirth._ Another_ letter? I was stumped. "You win," I finally admitted, "So, what is it?"

"An E," she said, writing the final letter beside the I. "But you don't even pronounce the E!" I exclaimed in protest, frowning. "That's just how it's spelled, Emmett," Rosalie told me in exasperation. "Some words are like that."

"It's not fair," I murmured, my lips settling into a pout. She ignored this. "Let's practice some more words, okay?"

So I spelled and wrote what should have been simple words. When I had pretty much mastered that, Rosalie picked a random book and had me read the words I knew, explaining ones I didn't.

"Are we almost done?" I asked, interrupting her explanation. My mind seemed to almost ache from all I'd learned. It was probably more than I'd ever learned in my whole life.

Rosalie scowled, but ignored me and changed the topic. "Now, when you actually read, you can sound the words out as you go, if you don't know them. Words grouped together make sentences, which you can end with a period, for statements, an exclamation point, for exclamations, and a question mark, for questions."

I guiltily found I was paying more attention to her than the actual words she was speaking.

"Am I finished _now_?"

"Not even close," she said. "There's still contractions and lower case letters and pronouns and more grammar and writing sentences and-"

"How about we do all that tomorrow?" I suggested, tugging the chalkboard out of her hands.

"And what did you have in mind for the rest of today?" Rosalie asked playfully, raising an eyebrow, though I could tell she knew full well what _I_ had in mind.

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A/N:

Sorry, I realize this chapter is one of the shortest...But please review, of course. Thanks. I'll have the next chapter up sometime next week.

**Note:** Well, I got a certain review/flame from an anonymous member, about this chapter…and I feel like I have to clarify some things.

First thing, the person asked, "But Emmett has never, in all the time he has spent with a house full of literate vampires, heard of the letter 'E?'" Well, it's not like you actually say the letter "E" when you say "Emmett." They assumed Emmett knew, so the others wouldn't have any reason to mention it.

To clear this up, school wasn't a big thing in the early 1900s when Emmett was growing up, especially in rural areas. Sure, maybe his mom or brothers taught him his alphabet when he was like, four or something, but it would've been at least fifteen years of human life and then about five or so of vampire years. Vampires do have perfect memory, but this was when he was human, and human memories fade, unless you dwell on them. But Emmett has no reason to dwell on that particular memory, so it DOES make sense that he might've forgotten.

"And he writes the E's backwards by accident, when he has a perfect memory?" Just because he remembers something does not mean he automatically knows how to do it. And just because he looks at writing does NOT by all means make you able to do it.

Sorry if you found the chapter didn't make "any sense whatsoever," but to me it IS plausible.


	8. Car Engines and Greasy Faces

**A/N: **I just want to let you know I'm starting to write another story, for a different fandom (The Hunger Games), though it's not going to be published for now. I have a lot of inspiration for it, and I'm eager to write it all before I post it, though I'll probably finish this story first. So my updates will be a little slower than normal.

Thanks to **brokenfromthepast, Obsesive Reader, sparkleyangel, morgan, TillITryIllNeverKnow, **and** twilightrocks999** for the reviews. We've almost passed the number of reviews for A Piece of my Happily Ever After, all thanks to you...

Disclaimer: As you should know by now, I don't own Twilight.

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Rosalie.

"Hey, Emmett, could you hand me the exhaust gasket, please?" I held out an open hand from where I lay underneath the car, waiting.

"The _what_?" he asked, bewildered. I groaned, not for the first time. "It's on the table."

Emmett sighed. "That narrows it down a lot," he muttered under his breath.

"By the coil wires..."

The car above me tilted bizarrely, revealing Emmett's exasperated features. He held the front of the car up with a careless hand, and I winced as the rear banged against the hard floor of the garage.

"What the hell is a coil wire?"

"This, Emmett," another voice chimed in, sounding amused. Edward, of course. He held out a cord of electrical wires in one hand, with the metal gasket in the other.

"Can you _please_ put my car down, Em? You're going to mess up the paint." I said impatiently, catching the metal part Edward tossed to me. "Fine, fine," he sighed, setting the car carefully back to its place just to appease me. "I can't believe you're still working on this. You've spent how many hours on it now?"

I took that as a rhetorical question.

"You should find a hobby, Emmett, and then you won't complain about mine," I said, smiling even though he couldn't see me beneath the car.

I fitted the metal piece in its place. It took only one light tap of a hammer to secure it to the car, one of the few benefits of having above average strength.

"I told you you'd love it, Rose," Edward called, his voice sounding slightly complacent. He had a reason to be; I _did _love it, seeing the products of my tireless efforts, the delight on Carlisle's face when I fixed what was wrong with his car, the way I could keep making my own even better.

I liked being useful, and being admired, and this was just another way to get both. Soon, I'd be even better at it than Edward... He scoffed at my thoughts. "Yeah, right."

"Anyway, Emmett, we'll go hunting later, when I finish," I assured him.

I rolled out from underneath the car and took a quick inspection of the glossy red paint, to make sure Emmett hadn't damaged it. Thankfully, there wasn't even a scratch.

Edward muttered something to Emmett, so quiet I didn't hear it. I turned to face them, wiping the oil off my hands with a rag. Edward spoke first. His eyes were suspiciously wide with a little_ too_ much innocence. "Rosalie, I can't believe you didn't notice that on your face before!"

Something on my face? Damn, there wasn't even a mirror in the garage. I narrowed my eyes with suspicion. "Maybe it's grease...?" Edward suggested, his forehead creasing convincingly.

"Emmett, he's not lying, right?" I asked, to be sure. In my peripheral vision, Edward frowned. Emmett slowly looked up from his hands, his eyes unreadable. "No...he's not lying."

What? I was sure it would be one of his idiotic jokes. What if I really did have oil or grease or something smeared all over my face?

I darted out of the garage, speeding past Esme in the living room to mine and Emmett's room. I frantically turned on the faucet and ran a clean washcloth through the running water.

Then I looked apprehensively in the mirror at my reflection.

...I checked again.

Three times.

Even a fourth time.

My perfect features stared back at me, nothing out of the ordinary on my face. Nothing _at all_. Sheer anger rose inside of me.

I heard the sound of laughter from the garage, that idiotic brother of mine...Edward had attacked my one (or so I liked to think) imperfection, my vanity, and even Emmett had played along. I ground my teeth together in annoyance. They were_ so_ going to pay.

"Edward! Emmett!" I screamed, though they probably could hear me even if I whispered, "I'm going to _kill _you!"

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Emmett.

"I'm going to kill you!"

Rosalie's threat echoed in my ears. "How did you manage to convince me to do that again?" I muttered to Edward, who was looking perfectly at ease. He rolled his eyes. "How can you be scared of your own _wife_?"

"Rosalie can be plenty scary when she wants to be," I argued. Just then, Rosalie barged into the garage, her golden eyes fiery. "I'm going to kill you!" she repeated.

Rosalie advanced on me, her eyes glittering with antagonism. "You lied to me, Em."

I backed away. "Would it help to tell you I love you? A lot?"

"No, it wouldn't!" she said, her gaze suddenly turning to Edward, who was trying—without success—to silently pry open the door to the garage. He was looking definitely more panicked than he had a minute ago. "Don't think I've forgotten about you, _Edward_."

He looked momentarily trapped before forgoing the lever and running straight through the door itself, carving a human-shaped hole behind him. Or should I say vampire-shaped hole?

"Coward," I muttered. Rosalie sighed. She suddenly looked vulnerable, her position slumping in defeat. She leaned back against the hood of her car.

"Why did you lie, Emmett?" Rosalie asked softly. I shrugged sheepishly, feeling guilty.

She scoffed, tossing back her hair.

"Were you really going to tear me up and burn me?" I countered, raising an eyebrow in disbelief. Though, admittedly, I'd been less confident when she had started towards me.

Rosalie rolled her eyes. "You, probably not. Him? Definitely." She grinned devilishly, and I didn't doubt her.

"Don't we have someplace to be?" I asked, changing the subject.

"We do?" Rosalie said, puzzled.

It was my turn to roll my eyes. "You promised we'd go hunting, remember? Are you done yet?"

"_Well_..." she murmured, already drifting over to her car, "I still have just a few more things to get to..."

"Just a few?" I asked skeptically.

"I promise," Rosalie replied distractedly, already grabbing a weird metal contraption whose name I would probably never know.

She would end up breaking her promise, I knew. _Five more minutes_, she'd say, then end up taking a full hour. But I didn't mind.

We all had our flaws, however big or small, and, after all, I probably wouldn't love her without them.

**

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**

A/N:

Thanks for reviewing. Next is Alice and Jasper's introduction, which I'm really looking forward to, followed by respective reflections by Rosalie and Emmett. I have a bunch of really great ideas for these. You'll see...soon, I promise.

And, I really am as clueless as Emmett about cars, so I apologize if one of you car-braniacs out there reading this finds something wrong with it.


	9. Visions, Scars, and Stories

**A/N: **I have a poll on my profile, though it's a little early, about what I should write after I finish this. I'd appreciate if you'd vote and let me know. Thanks.

Thank you, not only to the people who review, but to those who add this to their favorites or story alerts: **sparkelyangel, BeccaSucks, brokenfromthepast, Ivy-Eve, angelinasv, HaLaw123, chatterboxcaz, **and** ISolomnlySwearIAmUpToNoGood**.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Twilight; Stephenie Meyer does.

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**Rosalie.**

I looked up suddenly as a light knock on the door shattered my concentration.

"Esme? Are you expecting someone?" I asked. She frowned. "Not today."

Hesitantly, I walked to the door and peeked out through the adjacent window. Two strange-looking vampires, one male and one female, stood on the doorstep, arguing, which I could hear clearly through the door.

"Jasper, Rosalie-" How did she know my name? "-will open the door in exactly nine seconds. Stop being so nervous!" The male opened his mouth, but the brunette interrupted. "Of course they'll like you."

How did she know my name?

I pulled open the door swiftly. "May I help you?" I asked coldly. Carlisle never liked us socializing too much with other vampires. I could now see them clearly. The female was quite petite, nearly a foot shorter than I was, with dark brown hair. She smiled brightly, which I found slightly unnerving.

The male was tall, with blonde hair like mine, and crescent-shaped scars covering his entire body. I suddenly realized that the scars were from other vampires'_ teeth_, and took a cautious step back, crouching slightly. Clearly, he had seen a lot of fighting, and had survived it all. Who were these people?

I hoped they weren't hostile, as neither Esme, Carlisle, or I liked fighting and Emmett and Edward were off hunting. But I relaxed as I saw they had golden eyes, like us. That, at least, made them seem more friendly. I'd never known other vampires to think of abstaining from human blood, besides Carlisle and the Denali clan.

"Hello, Rosalie!" the female said brightly, "Are Esme and Carlisle here? How are Edward and Emmett?" The way she'd grouped them, like she knew already that Esme and Carlisle were here made me wary of answering. Maybe this was a long lost acquaintance of Carlisle's? They surely couldn't be strangers... Either way, I was starting to get suspicious.

The male, Jasper, as she had called him, rolled his eyes. "Calm down, Alice. You're starting to scare her." ...What? He didn't add "a lot," but it was clearly implied. Was it really that obvious on my face? I tried to rearrange my features.

Suddenly, I felt calmer, more in control.

I found my voice within a couple of seconds. "Um, would you like to come inside?" I offered, only out of politeness. Alice, or so the male called her, beamed. "Thank you, Rose. We'd love to."

I led them into the parlor, calling for Carlisle and Esme. Surely they'd want to greet the visitors, whoever they were.

They came in together. I raised my eyebrows at Carlisle, as if to ask, do you know them? He shook his head almost imperceptibly, but greeted them warmly nevertheless.

"Carlisle!" the female cried, shaking his hand with enthusiasm. "You're so much better in person." Surprisingly, Carlisle's smile didn't falter. "Have we met before, perhaps?" his tone revealing his confusion.

The male touched the female's shoulder softly. "Names first, Alice. You're confusing them." I noticed for the first time he had a drawl to his voice, like he was from the South.

"Oh, right," she replied, then turned back to face us. "I'm Alice, and this-" she gestured back to the man, "-is Jasper."

Esme's lips turned up in a smile. "Hello, Alice, Jasper. Why don't you sit down?" They both did as she said, and the tension is the room relaxed somewhat. "Well, since there's no need for introductions, I presume," Carlisle began, "Why don't you tell us your story?"

Alice smiled. "Jasper will start first," she said, as though she'd practiced saying it hundreds of times. "He is older, after all."

Jasper cleared his throat hesitantly. "I was born in the 1800s, before the Civil War. I lived in Texas, and I enlisted in the army when I was seventeen—I was tall, so I lied about my age.

"I was promoted to through the ranks quickly. But one night, I was...approached by three vampires. They changed me, and I...joined their cause, the wars in the South. I was...valuable, I guess you could call it, to Maria, my leader. I had a gift of...being charismatic when I was human, so as I vampire I can change someone's emotions, make them feel...differently."

Carlisle leaned forward, interested. "Could you demonstrate this gift?"

Jasper smiled almost eagerly, and Alice, who hadn't seemed to be paying attention, put a hand on his forearm. "Not too much, Jazzy."

Then, suddenly, I felt it. Fear, stronger than anything I'd ever felt. It was completely terrifying, overwhelming every other conscious thought. It was so much like that night, nearly twenty years ago, when I saw Royce and the other men for what they really were. Monsters. My fingers dug into the cushions of the armchair, and I tried not to scream.

"Stop it," I said, forcing the words through my tightly clenched teeth.

As quickly as it had come, the fear was replaced with a feeling of general contentment. The feeling of being afraid seemed almost like a dream, an old memory.

"Amazing," Carlisle breathed, his voice awed. _Amazing_? I wouldn't call it that, more like...terrible.

What was to stop him from influencing everyone's emotions to his own benefit?

Jasper shared a look with Alice, and she took his hand in encouragement as he began where he'd left off. "So...I turned against Maria, with the help of two other vampires, Peter and Charlotte. I traveled with them, and we changed from the ways I had first learned, the ways I had thought were normal. I had never thought that it could be any different, but I saw I had been wrong.

But I couldn't stand hunting...humans-" he glanced quickly at Carlisle, as if gauging his reaction, but Carlisle's face remained impassive "when I could sense their emotions, feel their fear like it was my own. It drove me away from Peter and Charlotte, and I continued on by myself for a while, until I met Alice, and she..."

Alice interrupted. "I think I should start, now, if you don't mind?" We nodded our approval, and she started speaking, her voice clear and sweet.

"I don't remember my human life, only vague impressions of darkness. I don't even remember how I was changed into a vampire. But I woke up somewhere near Mississippi, and the only thing that seemed to fit was the name _Alice_, so I called myself that. That was when I had my first vision. It was so clear, so much more than my past life. I saw Jasper enter a diner, and I saw myself, in my vision, meeting him.

"I didn't know what it was, at first. But then I had another one, myself again, attacking one of the nearby...people, drinking his blood. Then I felt the bloodlust, and my vision became reality. I realized I could see what was going to happen, before it actually did." Carlisle opened his mouth, but Alice spoke first. "I can demonstrate that later, Carlisle."

He smiled faintly, and she grinned back.

"I found out I was a vampire, but I didn't like drinking human blood, taking their lives away. I starved myself, keeping away from humans. But then I had another vision, and it was of you. I saw the way you lived, feeding on animals. And I followed that way of life. I felt that I was _meant_ to see you, somehow.

"My visions of Jasper and you were connected, and I knew I would have to find him.

"After a long while, I found the diner, and after an even longer while, Jasper came through the same door, as I knew he would. We traveled together, searching for you, but I could never seem to see where exactly you were. But we kept searching, and here we are!"

There was a silence. "But what did you hope to achieve, by meeting us?" Carlisle asked.

"I saw visions of you, Carlisle, of how you welcomed Rosalie, and the same to Emmett. I had thought...that maybe, you would welcome us, too. That we could find a place in your family," she said quietly, ducking her head as though ashamed.

"Well...," Carlisle began.

"Of course you can, dears," Esme spoke over him, her voice firm. "We'd love to have you." She stared pointedly at Carlisle, who smiled at once under her gaze.

"Absolutely," he said at once. Alice nearly squealed in her excitement.

I wasn't so sure. _More_ people living with us? Wasn't three enough for them? "You'll love me, Rose," Alice said, her golden eyes widening with innocence, "I promise."

Well, I didn't think I could prove that wrong, so I didn't reply. Maybe she was right...or maybe Jasper was making me feel like that. "Ouch, Rosalie," he said, smiling slightly, "I can feel your hostility all the way over here."

I laughed, in spite of myself. Maybe, just maybe, this would turn out to be a good thing for us...

* * *

I wholeheartedly agreed with Alice when she said she wanted Edward's room, as it had the best view of the surrounding landscape.

I'd helped her and Jasper drag out all his furniture into the garage. I'd love to see his face when he realized that his room had been taken over by our two newest family members.

We returned to the sitting room when we'd finished. "So, Alice, are you and Jasper married?"

Jasper fidgeted uncomfortably, and Alice giggled. "Well, not _yet_..." She winked, and squeezed his his hand.

"Maybe she'll turn out to be even more annoying than me," a voice teased, and I turned to see Edward and Emmett in the doorway. "Replacing me already, Carlisle?"

Carlisle smiled. It seemed as though he'd been doing that a lot lately. I hugged Emmett in greeting, pressing a kiss against his lips. He looked over my shoulder at Jasper, grinning widely like the child he truly was. "Any good at fighting?"

Jasper raised an eyebrow and didn't answer, a smirk spreading across his features. "And you're not allowed to cheat," Emmett added, glaring at Edward.

"Of course," Jasper replied with ease. They sped outside, already laughing and joking around as if they'd known each other for years, not minutes.

Their laughter was drowned out by the sound of Edward's furious voice from upstairs. "Where the hell is all my furniture?"

I tried to keep a straight face (and mind) as I shared a conspiratorial smile with Alice.

"Not a clue."


	10. Fighting, Losing, and A Brother

**A/N:** This is a two-part piece. First is Emmett's reflection on Jasper, which is this chapter, then the next chapter is Rosalie's of Alice. Enjoy.

I'd appreciate if you'd vote in the poll I have on my profile, about which story I should write next after I finish this one. I think I have a pretty good idea of what I want to write next, but I'd love to hear what you guys think about it.

Thanks to **sparkleyangel, brokenfromthepast, TillITryIllNeverKnow, **and** twilightrocks999** for reviewing.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Twilight or any of the characters, which shouldn't be a surprise...It all belongs to Stephenie Meyer.

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**It takes two men to make one brother. **- Israel Zangwill

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**Emmett.**

Jasper lunged at me suddenly, moving faster than even my eyes could possibly see or predict. There was a loud noise, like cracking rocks, and I crashed backwards, hard, into the dirt. I felt his teeth, sharp at my neck, and slammed my fist into his face with all my strength.

I had lost, _again._

If only he was human, the sheer impact of my swing would have cleanly beheaded him. Okay, maybe not so cleanly...

But he wasn't, and it only pushed him away from me by a few yards.

There were a few benefits to near invicibility, and there were a few disadvantages. This was actually a little bit of both. I absolutely hated losing. It didn't hurt me, just my pride. I was stronger than every vampire I knew, but I still lost sometimes.

I pulled myself upright to my feet at once, growling in anticipation of his next attack. I wouldn't lose this time...

Jasper grinned, and I felt my confidence being steadily replaced with sudden, overwhelming doubt. "No cheating!" I managed to say, my voice nearly squeaking. Idiot.

Confidence boosted, I charged and feinted towards his face. Jasper ducked quickly, and I took advantage of the opportunity, my fist colliding with his shoulder.

I'd never get tired of that lovely, satisfying sound.

But before I could defend myself, he was back on his feet, tackling me to the ground once again. I had the advantage, being bigger than he was, and I rolled over, pinning his body to the ground.

_Wham_. Air whooshed past as my fist flew directly into his face with a loud crack. Jasper groaned and snarled, struggling beneath me. Another punch, and he stopped flailing.

I couldn't help throwing another, for good measure. Served him right. "Who's the winner, now?" I taunted, standing up.

Jasper rolled his eyes. "I would beat you every time if you would let me use my...ability."

"Yeah, right," I challenged, but inside I wasn't so sure. He probably could... His teeth glinted in the light as he smiled. "What, are you feeling scared?"

I scowled. "You're doing that to me!"

Jasper's eyes widened innocently. "It's all you, Emmett."

"Whatever," I sighed, trying to suppress the doubt without much success.

I charged again, but before I could reach him, I collapsed, feeling more tired than I'd ever felt in my life, like the whole sky was pushing me downwards. I let out a low groan, sinking to the ground.

The exhaustion vanished as suddenly as it had come, startling me with its absence.

I sprang at him again, trying to catch him unaware. And a wave of peace spread through me, leaving me completely happy, smiling widely. Why had we even been fighting in the first place? Peace was just _so_ nice. Then it was replaced by a bone-chilling fear, my fingernails clenching deep into the ground...

Then sadness, guilt, lust, pain, joy, and so many others overwhelmed me, one by one, leaving me immobile to anything else. Some were blessed, others not. They swept through me, pushing everything else aside.

After what felt like an hour, my emotions seemed to return to normal, or as normal as they could possibly be, I supposed.

My mind still felt strangely empty, like something was missing. Like someone had stolen a part of my brain, or a puzzle that was left uncompleted. Pleasant, I know.

"You were saying, Em?" Jasper asked from above me, a smirk lingering across his lips.

"You win," I gasped reluctantly, breathing hard even though I didn't need the air. I struggled to get up off the ground. It didn't help that I had an audience, as Rosalie and Alice watched from the back porch, their quiet, chiming laughter carrying into the evening air.

Jasper cordially offered his hand, and I took it, pulling myself upright. "No cheating now?" I asked, smiling slightly.

He smiled back hesitantly. "No cheating," he promised me.

Rosalie rolled her eyes at our antics. "Don't hurt him too much, Emmett."

Alice raised her dark eyebrows at her in exasperation. "Are you sure about that, Rose? Because Jasper is _so_ going to win."

I mock-scowled at her, which she accepted with a slight smile. Rosalie shook her head slightly at Alice, golden curls swinging with the motion. But "We'll see," was all she said.

I smiled, and leaned into a crouch opposite Jasper. I bared my teeth in what I hoped was a menacing grin. "Well, Alice, I guess I'll have to prove you wrong."

For what must have been the millionth time already, we attacked, our growls and whoops filling the heavy summer air.

And, I did prove Alice wrong. Some times I won, others I lost. But the number of my victories of losses didn't matter. Jasper would never be an absolutely perfect person, or fighter, and neither would I. But we were family, in a weird, gradual sort of way, and whatever fights or arguments we would have in the future wouldn't stand between us for long.

And I knew he was really meant to be my brother, perfect or otherwise.

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**A/N:** Yes, I know this was pretty short, actually, really short, but I'll most likely have the next chapter up sooner than this one was...

Reviews = inspiration, so thanks for taking the time to write (or type) them. Please, please remember to vote in the poll on my profile if you get the chance. Thanks a lot.


	11. Yellow Roses and Green Eyed Monsters

**A/N:** Here's Rosalie's reflection on Alice. I'm really busy working on other writing projects and such, but I'm actually really pleased with how this chapter turned out.

Also, I've only got two votes in the poll on my profile, so I'd appreciate it if you'd vote on which story you think I should write next after this one. Thanks.

Thanks to **xCxBubblezx,** **twilightrocks999,** and **BeccaSucks** for the reviews, and **Coz, MrsEmmettMcCartyX,** and **Lizzybeta** for story alerting and/or adding this to their favorite stories list.

**Disclaimer:** Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight, not me.

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**Rosalie.**

"How do I look?" Alice asked, her voice sounding needlessly worried.

"Almost perfect," I said, carefully removing the last curler from her hair. The short, dark ringlets framed her face, the color almost black next to the paleness of her skin.

I smoothed the non-existent creases from the white gown, as Alice fidgeted. Esme scolded her gently, and leaned in to fix the light pink gloss painted across her lips.

"You look beautiful, Alice," I said, stepping back slightly. And she really did. The simple white wedding dress suited her, falling to just graze the ground, the train flowing smoothly behind. Crystals dotted the fabric, gleaming when they caught the light. The light layer of color on her cheeks made her look almost human, as though she really was a blushing bride.

But she was literally glowing. The happiness on her face was pure and infectious, making me smile.

All in all, Jasper would most definitely be completely speechless.

She closed her eyes for half a second then opened them, a smile spreading on her face. "I really do," she decided, turning to face her reflection in the mirror.

I couldn't help but feel slightly jealous. The elegant dress I wore was nothing compared to Alice's wedding dress, a simple cream-colored gown. I supposed it wouldn't be right if I looked prettier than the bride on her wedding day, but I still longed to outshine her.

And I hated that I wanted to.

"Don't worry, Rose," Alice said suddenly, "You look pretty, too."

I half smiled, touched that she would try to comfort me. "Thanks, Alice." Her face looked even lovelier as her lips curved up into a bashful smile.

"Were you as nervous as I am now, when you married Emmett? I mean, the first time you married him?" she asked, studying the glittering white crystals on her dress.

I laughed lightly. "I think I was more happy. But I can't even tell you're nervous."

Alice giggled back anxiously. "Oh, trust me. I am."

A sudden wave of calm spread through me, and Alice, by the look of serenity on her face. I felt instantly at ease. She grinned.

"Thanks, Jasper," she called, knowing he would hear her from downstairs.

"There's nothing like your first wedding," I told her, wistfully thinking of my beautiful dress, the look on Emmett's face when he saw me, and the way I'd felt, saying the words, "I do," and truly meaning them with my whole heart.

Alice pulled slightly on a dark pin curl of her hair. "I saw it, you know. In one of my visions. It was so beautiful."

"This will be, too. Because, after all, it's _yours,_" I assured her, though I thought it was slightly silly that she needed assurance of this fact.

She smiled gratefully, and turned to face her reflection again. Her hand reached out to touch the smooth glass of the mirror, as if she was making sure it was actually real. Esme entered the room again, holding out a fresh bouquet of yellow roses. Alice took them and stroked the petals gently, absentmindedly, as though she was remembering a moment that had already passed.

Edward leaned into the doorframe, clearing his throat. He was dressed in what looked like the same old tuxedo he'd worn to every single one of mine and Emmett's weddings, grinning blithely. "I would hurry up, if I were you," he told Alice, "Jasper is starting to think you're getting cold feet."

Alice rolled her golden eyes with a shake of her head. "Of course not."

He laughed. "Just passing the message. And, did I mention that you look beautiful, sis?" Edward spoke to Alice, but grinned meaningfully in my direction. He'd purposely said that to her, but would never call _me_ beautiful when it was actually my wedding. I tried to ignore him as best as I could.

Alice said something back in reply, but I didn't hear it, too absorbed in trying and failing not to think about Edward's comment.

She moved away from the mirror, out of the room, and I took her place, staring at my own reflection. I didn't look bad, of course, but I wasn't anything near to how Alice looked today. Was it wrong that I wanted to? My usual blonde curls were straightened out for a change, and the cream-colored taffeta dress made my eyes look a lighter gold than they usually did.

"I think you look perfect," teased a familiar voice.

Emmett stood casually behind me, looking more than handsome in a classic black tuxedo. I tried to smile as I held out my arms to him for comfort.

He hugged me gently, careful not to wrinkle my dress. I sighed as his arms cradled me. Here in Emmett's arms, it felt like everything _was_ perfect. He swept my hair to one side, his lips pressed against the dip between my neck ad shoulder, traveling slowly up to my ear. "Maybe we can have another wedding again," he suggested, his voice low and soft.

I caught my breath. He always knew how to make me feel better. "Really?"

I felt him smile against my face. "Anything you want, Rose." I turned my head slowly, meeting his lips with my own, and kissed him ardently.

"I'd love that," I whispered, my voice earnest. He laughed quietly, amused. "C'mon. Let's go watch Alice and Jasper tie the knot."

* * *

A bouquet of yellow roses were clasped in my hands. Wagner's march sounded on the piano, simple and beautiful. I'd always loved it.

Alice began her descent on the sweeping stairs, her left arm clasped in Carlisle's. I still felt slightly envious, but I supposed it was normal. For me, anyway.

Emmett was standing beside Jasper, his lips curved up, as always, in a wide, cheerful smile. He winked at me, surely a lie to tell me that _I_ was prettier.

Jasper's gaze, of course, was fixed on Alice as she walked slowly towards him, a smile making him look as though all his crescent-shaped scars had disappeared.

I knew Alice wasn't the ideal person, but she was a central part of our weird, adoptive family. She was the sister I'd never had and always wanted, when I was human. And, despite everything about this day, where she outshone even me, I loved her. I wished I could tell her, and promised myself I'd tell her as soon as I got the chance.

Alice paused in the middle of the aisle, her eyes unfocusing for a brief moment. Then she smiled brightly, and laughed. Her face turned towards me, and her lips mouthed silent, unspoken words.

_Love you, too._

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**A/N:** Reviews are always appreciated. Thanks! Also, any suggestions for an event are welcome.

Remember to vote in the poll on my profile, too, please...


	12. A Juicy Steak and A Side of Stupidity

**A/N: **We've reached the 12th chapter. But here's the deal. This will be the last Rosalie/Emmett story I write. Maybe - and this is tentative - I'll do a couple of one shots, but this is definitely the last multi-chapter story I write about them. Just letting you know, since that option in the poll is getting the highest votes right now. But we still have about fifteen chapters to go, so don't panic! If you haven't yet, I would appreciate if you'd vote in the poll on my profile, please.

Thanks to** twilightrocks999, BlissfullyHappy,** **xCxBubblezx, **and** terioe** for the reviews.

**Note:** I honestly, don't like this chapter. I _would_ add it at the end as an outtake, but I want some fluffiness before the emotionally-disturbing chapters to come. Feel free to give a heavily constructive review if you want.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Twilight, Stephenie Meyer does.

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**Emmett.**

Okay, so it _was_ a crazy idea. I admit it. But I still wanted to do it.

I'd loved eating meat when I was human, and wanted to try it as a vampire. So, that was why I dragged home the carcass of a dead deer. Disregarding the fact that vampires only drink blood and have to choke up any human food after they eat it, of course.

I told myself that I was doing this because I wanted to, but, in reality...let's just say it invovled a certain bet Jasper made against me about this. But it surely couldn't be _that_ terrible to eat human food. And, at the very least, I could say that I had tried it.

Rosalie, after I'd told her about my plan, had glanced from me to the corpse and asked, "You want to eat a cooked deer, but not our wedding cake?"

Needless to say, she wasn't very supportive about it.

Esme, even though she too was skeptical of the idea, had butchered the dead animal and cooked it for me, which was actually the first time she used the kitchen in our new house.

And that was how I ended up sitting at the kitchen table that we never used for eating, staring at the deer steak on the plate in front of me.

It looked like it _should_, from my old, nearly faded human memories: deep brown and perfectly roasted, black grill lines evenly charring the meat. But the stench! Ugh.

Was it really possible that deer smelled so terrible? They certainly smelled better alive, and that's saying something. But I grasped the knife with my right hand, a fork in my left. I would _not_ back out of this now.

Slowly, I cut a small piece of meat with the knife. It felt strange using a knife, as I hadn't held one in nearly twenty years. "You'll almost definitely choke it back up," Alice chimed, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

"I really needed to hear that," I grumbled, glaring at her.

"Can you just eat it already? It smells disgusting," Edward threw in, wrinkling his nose.

And, I had to agree with him. It didn't smell particularly appetizing, especially with my heightened, vampire senses, and definitely not like something I wanted to eat.

I sighed, going back to staring at the minuscule slice I'd sawed off the steak. Suddenly, my idea wasn't looking so great at the moment...

With a groan, I forced the fork into my mouth and swallowed without chewing. It felt as though I had something lodged roughly in my gullet, like I was eating rocks. Actually, I bet even rocks would have tasted better than it. It moved slowly down to my stomach, scratching against the sides of my throat, unused to swallowing something other than blood.

Now that I actually had time to think about it, I saw the glaring, blatant stupidity of my plan. How could I actually finish the entire steak?

I cleared my throat and dry swallowed, trying to get rid of the burnt flavor the meat had left behind.

Now that I'd tried it, it wasn't like it was completely horrible to eat human food. Disgusting, but almost bearable. Everyone stared at me expectantly.

"What?" I asked, suddenly irritated. "Expecting me to start puking?"

No one said anything in reply, and I ignored their silence. Maybe it would be easier to eat without them interrupting.

I cut a second piece, bigger than the last, so I could finish faster. _Great_, I thought sourly, _only about a hundred more pieces to go._

I chewed this time, wishing vampires could at least drink water. It would definitely wash away the pungent odor and taste of the meat that lingered in my mouth. But success washed through me. I'd finished the second piece, and started on the third. Maybe I could prove Alice wrong. It had been harder to do than I'd expected, but it wasn't absolutely terrible.

After a few more, my stomach nearly groaned in protest, but I continued to eat. Still, no one said a word as they watched me eat, which I found slightly unnerving.

Halfway done. My confidence was steadily growing with every piece I ate. The steak was looking smaller and smaller...and I started believing that I could actually finish this. I'd prove Jasper wrong.

I was actually smiling eagerly after every bite now, determined to finish. It almost wasn't even that uncomfortable or disgusting anymore. I forced myself to swallow the next piece, my throat seeming thick and cottony. Two left, and I _would_ do this.

I brought the last piece of meat to my lips, chewing and swallowing without even tasting it. And, finally, what seemed like hours later, I was completely and utterly finished, and I hadn't choked _anything_ up. I grinned triumphantly, sticking my tongue out childishly at Jasper. "Pay up, Jasper."

Alice shifted, and started to say something, when my stomach gurgled noisily. I glanced down at it warily, and then I felt it.

I coughed, the hastily-chewed meat I'd eaten starting to inch their way steadily up my throat. I tried clearing my throat again, but I continued coughing uncontrollably.

Faster than I thought I was capable of, I ran out the door, though not before seeing Jasper's smirking grin. Just in time, too, because the absolutely _delicious_ steak I'd managed to stuff down my throat made its sudden, unwelcome reappearance. I groaned. Perfect timing, of course.

And, ugh, the smell was even worse than it had been before I'd ate it.

Muffled laughter echoed behind me, and Jasper's voice announced loudly, "Pay up, Emmett. _I_ won." I scowled briefly, straightened up, hurriedly wiped my mouth with my hand, and turned my back on the mess. It was too bad I couldn't brush my teeth...

"No, I won," I argued with Jasper. "I ate the _whole thing_."

"And then you choked it back up."

"_After_ I ate it!"

"So? You still choked it up."

As much as I hated to admit it, Jasper was probably right. "Whatever," I conceded, still annoyed at my failure. I supposed I couldn't win every single bet Jasper and I made, but that didn't stop me from trying to.

Rosalie looked on with a lofty smile, her nose pointedly facing away from the mangled remains of my...dinner.

"I bet our wedding cake would have tasted better."

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**A/N: **Definitely not one of my favorites so far. I really hate having under 1,500 words...but what do you think? Reviews, concrit, and new suggestions are always appreciated. Thanks.

As I said in the opening author's note, the next two chapters will be much more...disturbing. First is the second time Emmett slips up, and it's not pretty. It'll be a lot worse than the first ("Crimson Blood and Violet Irises"). Second is Vera's funeral, which'll also be a pretty heavy chapter. After those, it's the beginning of the Twilight Saga, with Rose's first reflection on Bella.


	13. Bloodlust, Guilt, and Grief

**A/N:** The basic information included in this chapter is from page forty seven of the partial draft of Midnight Sun, posted on Stephenie Meyer's website.

On another note, I've recently posted a new one-shot, for the **Hunger Games**, and I'd appreciate if you would check it out. It's called Fire And Ice. Thanks.

Thanks also to my three amazing reviewers, **brokenfromthepast,** **BlissfullyHappy**, and** twilightrocks999**. I can sometimes be a really obsessive perfectionist with my writing, but I'm glad you enjoyed the last chapter.

**Warning: **Vampiric violence, blood, death, etc. Nothing excessively graphic, of course.

**Disclaimer:** Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight and the basic ideas taken from Midnight Sun. Therefore, I do not.

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**Emmett.**

I didn't exactly get why Rosalie needed fresh flowers for our wedding. She could have gotten them from a florist's, but she insisted for me to personally pick them up from an old farm, way out in the country.

But I didn't _really_ mind.

Our wedding would be tomorrow, though I had already lost count on what number this one would be. Rose probably knew; she loved every single one our weddings.

The scent of apples hung in the hot summer air, sweet and slightly bitter. It mixed with the scent of hay and clean linens, bringing fuzzy, nostalgic memories of my human life. It seems strange that I'm beginning to forget it.

It was quite honestly refreshing to be out here, away from the others. I didn't mind their company, but I'd forgotten what it felt like to be independent. Alone.

The sun sank slowly into the horizon, dazzling and orange in my eyes, casting the sky in violet. I glanced away, even though I doubted the brightness could hurt me. I wished I could run, feel warm wind rushing past. But I couldn't.

A middle-aged woman stood alone in the middle of the empty field, busy with the laundry that hung on a clothesline between two apple trees. She paid me no attention, and I did the same, her fingers swiftly folding the clean clothes.

It was a still evening, no wind to rustle the many trees. Despite that, a strong wind suddenly swept in from the west, and I turned, seeing the sheets, white as my skin, blow out like sails.

And then it hit me. The scent was incredible, clearing every single thing from my mind. I didn't know my name. All I knew was that I needed this, needed this impossibly sweet-smelling blood, more than anything else I'd ever wanted.

My throat burned with a searing fire. I was suddenly next to her, tearing the sheets down in my haste. She didn't even have time to scream.

My teeth bit down on her incredibly fragile neck, hunger—or was it thirst?—consuming me.

Blood spilled, soaking the torn linens with crimson stains. But the rest I drank, my teeth digging deeper into her skin.

But then it was gone, not a single drop of blood left in her veins. And I still thirsted for more...

I had a moment of clarity. Was I a monster? I wanted now, more than ever, for the answer to be no.

And then I was running blindly, with no destination in mind, letting the rushing air sweep my mind free of what I didn't want to think about. But it didn't always work. Memories I'd never forget spilled into my brain. Unseeing violet eyes stared, and I found myself gasping for breath, unable to continue any further.

This woman's blood...I hadn't noticed before, but it had smelled of roses. With a sinking feeling, I realized it was the exact same way Rosalie did. Why did everything come back to her? The sense of creeping shame grew, and I dropped to my knees in the middle of an abandoned field.

The woman probably had had a family. A husband, kids, maybe even grandchildren. And I had taken it all away from her, in one horrifying moment.

_Monster_, the sudden wind seemed to howl, mocking me. And it was right. I was no better than a murderer; no better than Royce King, even.

Overwhelming guilt wracked me, worse than I'd ever felt, and terrible grief for the unknown people I had knowingly_ murdered_.

I didn't _want_ them to die.

But I had killed them.

I held my head buried in my hands, and wished, for once, that I could cry.

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**Rosalie.**

Laughing softly, I twirled, letting the lacy fabric of my new wedding dress swirl around me in a blur of white. My blonde curls flew out behind me, whipping past my head, and I felt light and free, completely oblivious to everything and everyone else.

But all that would change in the half-second in which Alice gasped, her eyes going blank, unseeing. Across the room, Edward stiffened, his eyes flashing almost imperceptibly towards me.

"What is it?" I asked at once, frantic. My momentary joy was forgotten, afraid of the answer.

And then, in eerily perfect unison, they both gave the answer I'd feared. "Emmett."

My fingers clung to Alice's arm, holding her wrist in a tight grip. "What's happened to him? Where is he?"

Alice didn't reply immediately. "You'll be too late to stop him, Rosalie." With a sinking feeling, I realized what he'd done. He'd attacked another human. _Again_.

"Tell me what you saw," I begged, and desperately flung the white dress over my head, paying no mind to the fact I'd probably ruined it, and changed hurriedly. Emmett mattered more than any fancy dress. Grabbing a coat, I nearly flew out of the room, heading towards the garage.

No one tried to stop me, not even Carlisle, and I was grateful for their lack of interference. Still, at the same time, I wished that maybe someone would help. But this was Emmett's problem, and I knew he could only deal with it in his own way.

And, within a matter of minutes, I was already on my way towards Emmett, hoping that this time, I would be able to convince him that it wasn't his fault.

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It was nearly dark as I reached the pasture Alice had described, but I could see perfectly. It was strangely silent, no wind whispering in the tall grasses.

The whirring of the engine of my car seemed loud in the night air, the bright light disrupting the dark night. I quickly shut both off, stepping out onto the seemingly deserted field.

"Emmett?" I called softly, hoping he was near. He would answer. He _had_ to.

And as I knew he would, he did. "You shouldn't have come." His voice was cold, indifferent, with a sharp edge of pain. It frightened me to hear it, but I tried to swallow my uncertainy.

"Of course I would come."

I couldn't tell where Emmett was in the wild plants that surrounded me. But his reply was loud, a confession. "I'm a _monster_, Rosie."

It shocked me to hear him say those words, hear the way his voice tremored over my name. I didn't know what I should say, and stuttered over my denial.

Emmett interrupted my hesitant words.

"You can't say anything to make this better. You did the first time, but I can't let you now." He tripped over his words, rushing angrily from one to the next. "There's something _wrong_ with me. This time, and forty years ago. The blood smelled different, Rosalie. Better."

The last word was almost a groan, and I could feel the suppressed guilt like physical pain in his voice. "That doesn't make you a monster, Emmett."

Couldn't he see? He was blind to himself, unable to see what was so obviously good about him. His humor, childishness, _everything_.

He was suddenly standing right in front of me, his eyes a intense, vivid red. Blood still painted his hands. "I killed her!" His fist slammed jarringly into the hood of my car, creating a deep hole and crushing the engine.

I winced, but didn't stop him. I wouldn't have been able to.

"Emmett—" My voice was a whisper, barely audible. I reached for him silently, wrapping my arms around his tall frame. Emmett was stiff in my arms, unresponsive. I pressed my lips to his. It was all I could do to hope that he wasn't lost, that he hadn't let what he'd done consume him entirely. And then he was shivering in my arms, desperately kissing me back as he cried almost silently, without shedding any tears.

He pulled away after a time, staring out at the dark field. "You're perfect." His voice was still tinged with bitterness, but it was slightly lessened now.

And I had a stirring hope that he'll be able to move on. He won't get over it, exactly. I didn't think it was possible for that. And I knew he would never forget this. It will always be permanently engraved in his memory. He won't completely forget, but continue onwards, to an unknown (and hopefully better) future.

And I had to smile. "No one's perfect, Emmett." But he will undoubtedly argue back, just like always.

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**A/N:** I was going to make this much more disturbing than it is now, but I decided that Emmett's been through enough already in this story. I tried to make it different from the first, but I'm not sure if I succeeded well enough, so please review. Any suggestions are welcome, too.

Also, if you haven't yet, please vote in the poll on my profile...Thanks. The next chapter might possibly be one of my favorites...in a morbid way.


	14. Unshed Tears and Silent Graves

******************A/N: **Next week is Spring Break, and I'll be going on a cruise to Mexico, so I will most likely not update until the week after that.

Thanks to **BlissfullyHappy, VILYA74, AlexaC, twilightrocks999, **and **TillITryIllNeverKnow, **who reviewed the last chapter.

**Disclaimer:** Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight. The song below, Syndicate, belongs to the Fray.

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**Baby, close your eyes, d****on't open 'til the morning light,**

**Don't ever forget, w****e haven't lost it all yet**

**All we know for sure is all that we are fighting for,**

**Baby, don't forget, we haven't lost it all yet.**

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**Rosalie's POV**

Emmett's face was completely obscured by the newspaper, which sloped upwards on either side of his head as he squinted at the tiny print.

Suddenly, the paper shifted, and Emmett's face was visible from my place at the piano.

"You know, your human friend, Vera? What was her last name?" he asked cautiously, not meeting my eyes. I frowned. Why would he bring it up now? It was close to sixty years since I last saw her, but the memory still hurt to think about.

And then it hit me. Sixty years. How had the time flown by so impossibly fast? She would have to be around eighty years old by now. That is, if she was still alive...A horrible feeling washed over me.

I swallowed, hard. My hands shook as I stood up from the bench. "What section of the newspaper are you reading, Emmett?"

He stood, too, hastily closing the newspaper. "It doesn't matter, Rose. Forget I said anything, okay?"

How could I forget? "What section?" I insisted, fear spiraling through me.

Emmett sighed, giving in. "The obituaries." Even though I expected it, it was still a shock to actually hear the word spoken aloud.

I grabbed the paper from his hands, quickly flipping to the right page. And my heart seemed to sink as I silently scanned the names, finding Vera's almost immediately. My vision blurred strangely, but the last words jumped out at me from the article:

_The service, open to all, will be held at St. Mary's Church from ten o'clock to twelve o'clock on Tuesday, December 16th. _Today.

Without even realizing it, I'd already moved towards the door. Emmett wedged himself in front of me. "Where do you think you're going, Rose?"

I sighed. "To the service. I...have to go." The implied "alone" hung in the air between us. Emmett broke the silence first, with a question he already knew the answer to. "Won't you let me go with you?" It seemed heartless to say such an outright "no," and I hesitated, unsure. But I steeled myself to say the words.

"I need to do this by myself, Emmett."

His eyes met mine, but they were startlingly unreadable, and he quickly looked away. "What if you need me?"

I tugged on my coat. "Alice will see if anything happens."

I started out the door, but Emmett suddenly pulled me back into a tight embrace. His lips pressed fervently to mine. "Love you." As I assured him the same, an uneasy feeling grew inside me. Why did this goodbye feel so sudden, so achingly painful?

And then I was on my way towards Rochester, the miles flying past me, but the feeling didn't seem to disappear.

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The service was almost over by the time I reached the city. I slipped unoticed into the church, loitering near the back of the room, but it was empty.

Murmurs echoed around the room, sad and mournful, but everyone seemed to be filing out.

I quickly slid the wide brim of my hat lower over my face. What if someone saw me, recognized my face from so long ago? It was close to impossible, but I hid my face, just to be sure.

With a loud thump, I saw the lid of the casket closing over an unrecognizable person. But it had to be her. In the quick glimpse I'd seen, her face was creased and wrinkled, the curly hair shining silver. She looked so old; and, despite my vanity, I wished I was able to look like her. Die like she did, so peacefully.

I scanned the faces of the people walking by. Would I see Henry here? He would have to be

"Can I help you?" A quiet voice asked, interrupting my musings. Startled, I turned, and saw a middle-aged woman clutching a handkerchief. But she left me speechless. She looked almost exactly like Vera had, sixty years ago, but much older. Dark, almost-graying curls, wide emerald eyes. A daughter. My heart twinged painfully. What else did my former best friend have in eighty years, things that I would never have in the rest of eternity?

"Um, no, thank you," I managed to say, unable to tear my eyes from her. Had Vera looked like this when she was fifty?

She smiled sadly. "Did you know my mother?"

I had to lie. Would Vera have told her about me? "I was an acquaintance. I...moved away, but I heard about her passing while I was in the area..."

Vera's daughter looked puzzled. I realized I'd forgotten a tiny detail. Physically, I was only eighteen; so when could I have met her in my life? I held my breath, hoping she wouldn't say anything.

To my relief, she accepted my story without comment. "I'm Audrey, her daughter."

"Nice to meet you," I replied automatically, not wanting to tell her my name. Audrey glanced back at the coffin, fresh tears forming in her eyes, and I felt another pang of envy. "Are you coming to...the burial?"

"No, I'm afraid not," I whispered, feeling claustrophobic in the somber atmosphere of the funeral home. "I have to get going soon."

A mournful wail pierced the near silence, and I saw a woman sobbing loudly as she stood over the closed casket. Audrey flashed me an apologetic glance. "I'm sorry. That's Rosalie, my younger sister."

I visibly flinched, trying desperately not to lose my composure.

But my own name echoed over and over in my head. _Rosalie, my younger sister._ Vera had named one of her daughters after _me_.

Muttering a hasty goodbye, I fled from the room, away from Rosalie's distressed cries, and out into the snow-covered cemetery.

I spotted a marble headstone, far away from the open grave site, and curled up on the ground, my head resting on the stone. And that was when I caught sight of the gold letter on the marble. It was my ironically my name they spelled. Rosalie Hale, 1917-1935.

But I knew nothing lay beneath the earth but an empty coffin, though I wished I lay in the ground, safely buried, unable to feel the heartwrenching guilt and sadness that I felt at this moment.

My own sobs, although tearless, floated away in the wintry air, for no one to hear but the dead.

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**Emmett.**

I lied.

Well, I told Rosalie I wouldn't go _with_ her, so technically I wasn't lying. But what I _was_ doing was following her there. She would need me, and I didn't need Alice to tell me that simple, obvious fact. She probably didn't know it, but I did, from the moment she stepped out of my arms.

I ran to Rochester, which was definitely a faster alternative to driving there. It took little effort to find the church, but I found it completely empty.

Sneaking into the adjacent graveyard, I caught Rosalie's scent in the breeze, faint, but enough for me to follow. And then I caught sight of her, skin as pale as the surrounding snow.

"Emmett?" she whispered, wiping nonexistent tears from her dark eyes.

I pulled her to her feet. "Shhh..." I murmured, rubbing her back gently. I felt her eyes flutter closed, but she shivered, as though she was cold.

Which was impossible, of course.

"Did Alice see something?" Rosalie asked softly, her voice quiet in my ear. She already knew what I would say. I shook my head.

"No, but I was worried," I said, "You know me too well. I couldn't have let you go by yourself."

She laughed, but the sound was bitter. "Will you come with me, then?"

"To where?" I asked, confused.

"Her...grave." She pulled away from me slightly, as if that could prove her independence.

"Are you sure?" I asked, uncertain of how she would react. But Rosalie nodded, entwining our fingers together.

It was easy to find, a wide, rerctangular hole in the ground. A mound of dirt lay beside it, waiting to fill the gap. Rosalie knelt, scooping up a handful of dirt. I squeezed her other hand as the soil slid through her fingers and rained softly on the coffin below.

"Goodbye," she whispered. For a moment, she silently read the inscription on the tombstone. And then she buried her face into my shoulder and cried. I saw the engraved letters clearly.

_IN LOVING MEMORY OF_

_James Brown, 1915-1984_

_And his wife, Vera Louise, 1917-1985_

_And their son, Henry James, 1934-1937._

_To live in the hearts of those we love is never to die._

And I understood. Henry, the child Rosalie had coveted as a human, had died, only two years after she'd been raped and turned into a vampire. He was the one who she had said I reminded her of, and he had died the same year Rosalie found me.

It might have even been the same day.

It seemed so unnecessarily cruel that our fates were so intertwined. Henry had only been three years old when he died.

She sobbed his name, and I shared her pain. The sound of her aching cries nearly made me want to cry along with her, but I didn't let myself.

At last, Rosalie sighed, her voice marred by her unshed tears. "She named one of her daughters after _me_, Emmett." I gently patted her back soothingly.

"You must have meant a lot to her, then." But she shook her head, her eyes showing pained, unmeasurable sadness.

"I pitied her. I thought I was better, prettier, richer. But I was wrong. She was, and I never got to tell her."

"I'm sure she knows, now. And I'll bet she'd forgive you, too," I said. Rosalie looked up at me, desperate hope shining in her eyes.

"Do you really think that?"

I smiled as reassuringly as I could. "Of course." And I wholeheartedly meant it.

Rosalie pulled herself away from my arms, darting over to pick a stray wildflower, and returning in a few seconds. She let the flower fall into the silent grave, and said, only a little shakily, "I'm sorry, Vera. And James...and Henry."

The bright red flower looked both out of place and fitting against the pale snow and wooden coffin. Rosalie sighed.

I took her hand again as she walked slowly back to me, saying goodbye to the a final piece of her old life. Rosalie would never forget, but she could move on. Her memories wouldn't truly haunt her as much as they had before.

She was still fragile, in a way, as she glanced back at the fissure in the ground, but she seemed to shine brightly even in the cloudy, sunless day.

And it seemed to me that she had never looked as beautiful as she did in that moment.

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**A/N: **Not really sure about this chapter. I thought I'd like it, but it sounded better in my head...

My birthday is tomorrow, but I'd love if you included "Happy Birthday." in your review, if you review. Thanks. As you know, suggestions, concrit, and anything else is always appreciated.


	15. A Human Girl and Angry Whispers

**A/N: **This is Rosalie's first reflection on Bella, and also partially on Edward and Bella's relationship. I have to admit that I really don't like her either, so this was pretty easy to write. It takes place when Edward leaves Bella to change clothes the first night he stays in Twilight.

Thanks to the people who reviewed (and wished me happy birthday):** BlissfullyHappy, JezCul666, xCxBubblezx, VILYA74, TillITryIllNeverKnow, **and** twilightrocks999. **

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Twilight, it belongs to Stephenie Meyer.

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**"O! beware, my lord, of jealousy; It is the green-eyed monster which doth mock the meat it feeds on."** – William Shakespeare

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**Rosalie.**

Dawn was coming early; the sky turned lighter and lighter with every passing second. In the east, the sun began to creep its way past the horizon, coloring the sky a faint orange streaked with a rosy pink.

And a few miles away, I heard light, running footsteps. Edward.

Just his name sparked a million conflicting emotions. Most of them negative, to be honest.

I sighed, sinking to sit upon the marble staircase. For the moment, I couldn't care less about the dust and dirt that surely covered the floor, ruining the white fabric of my dress.

Why couldn't everything stay the same? It was easier. Predictable, but I liked it that way.

But this boring human girl had destroyed even that.

What could he ever see in her? She was nothing particularly new, nothing even remotely interesting. One plain face in the billions of people in the world. So why had he chosen her, chosen to save her, chosen to fall in love with her?

It wasn't normal, or even natural.

Edward now entered the front door, a ridiculously—and shamelessly—cheerful expression across his face. A quiet whisper in the back of my mind told me that he hadn't really smiled like that in years, or maybe he had never smiled the way he did now. But it faded slowly as he caught sight of me, waiting for him. I caught the bland scent of that human girl, _Bella_, all over him. Ick.

"Keep your opinions to yourself, Rosalie," he said coolly.

"Impossible, when you're digging around in my head all the time," I replied, just as frostily.

He rolled his eyes. "Don't think I actually want to."

"Look, Edward," I began, trying to start over. "You're putting all of us at risk with your pointless...infatuation. She could ruin everything. _You_ could ruin everything."

His eyebrows rose skeptically. "Rose, we both know the real reason you're doing this. And, besides, Bella would never tell." The way he said her name, how his voice went all soft, made me cringe.

"Real reason? That's a perfectly good reason," I lied, avoiding his gaze.

It _was_ a reason, just not a very conclusive one. _Bella_ could tell someone, anyone, our secret. The truth would get out, one way or another, and we'd have to move, again. I wasn't protesting her so much as the general welfare of our family. Or so I told myself.

But I knew there was another reason, and so did he. An idiotic, selfish, vain reason, but a reason nevertheless.

"No, it's not," Edward protested. "Admit it; you're jealous of her. Ridiculously so." I hated how the words sounded, the impossible but probable truth that I didn't want to ever face.

"I am _not_ jealous of a human!" I whispered furiously, conscious of Alice and Jasper approaching us. Alice was laughing, her eyes bright, and Jasper, infected by her mood, was grinning too. "Why don't you tell everyone the news, Edward?" she asked playfully.

Edward shifted, almost uncomfortably, and glanced quickly at me. But soon a wide smile spread across his face as he ignored my silent corner of irritation in the midst of all those smiles.

"I kissed her," he finally admitted. I would have sworn he'd be as red as a tomato if he were human. I pointedly rolled my eyes at him. "Thank God. It took you, what? A hundred years?"

But the anger and hidden envy I felt suddenly vanished as Jasper touched my arm lightly, leaving in its place contentment and ease. I was strangely detached from everything else. I still had enough sense left as I stepped away from Jasper, wrenching my arm from his touch. The feelings lessened only slightly, but it was enough. "You could try not being so obvious, Jazzy," I suggested spitefully, annoyed.

He didn't look offended in the slightest. "Calm down, Rosalie." And a stronger wave of neutrality washed over me.

"I _am_ calming down! You're forcing me to."

And strong arms wrapped around me from behind, bringing a new, genuine peace. "Calm down, Rosie," Emmett said, and I found myself relaxing in his embrace. He kissed the top of my head, lips brushing against my hair. "So, now, what's all this racket about?"

"Edward's planning to bring Bella here today," Alice announced loudly, oblivious to Edward's grimace at her lack of secrecy.

"What?" I cried. "You never told me that!" I glared at him, but Emmett's arms held me back. Edward ignored me, but sent Alice another annoyed glance.

"That's...what I was planning. If everyone agrees," he said.

"I don't," I said at once, scowling. I'd be outnumbered, sure, but that didn't mean I have to cave in. Edward finally looked at me, his expression almost pained. "Please, Rose? You don't have to talk to her, I promise."

"I can't," I whispered, knowing this was the truth.

I'll admit I was jealous, cruel, even. But how could he find beauty in her, when he couldn't even see mine? It was impossible.

But it wasn't just that. She had absolutely everything she could possibly wish for. Everything I could possibly wish for. And she was human. She could live, age, die. And I never would be able to, as long as I lived. As long as forever. I could never see what Emmett would look like as his hair turned gray, never see the grandchildren, born to the children I could never have.

Edward turned away, his silence a reluctant acceptance, but not understanding, of my decision. _Thank you_, I thought sincerely. While only his profile was in my view, I saw his chin sink in a nod. Alice and Jasper followed as he went to tell Esme and Carlisle the wonderful news.

I looked up at Emmett, afraid he would not agree with me. But he wore a smile, as cheerless and fake as it was. And I loved him all the more for trying.

"You know, Rosalie, it doesn't matter that he doesn't think you're beautiful, right?" Emmett asked lightly, an effort to ease the tension between us.

It worked. "Why not?" I asked, playing along. He knew what would always cheer me up. Emmett smiled, and this time it was genuine.

"Because I do."

His lips touched mine, an unspoken serenity between us as I kissed him back. And I thought maybe, just maybe, that some things are better when they stay the same. _Maybe. _It was uncertain, but the thought was still there nevertheless.

And I would be eternally grateful for the simple, unchangeable fact that Emmett would still be here, as much as I didn't deserve it, for the rest of forever.

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**A/N:** Sorry this chapter was really short compared the the last. I had a million ideas for the last one, but not many for this chapter. But can you believe we're half-way through this story already? If you review, please let me know which chapter has been your favorite so far, and any suggestions you may have for the outtakes. Thanks.

Also, since my AP World History test (gulp!) is coming up in May, my updates will probably be a little slower. But I plan to have this story done around the beginning of summer, so we'll see.


	16. Stolen Kisses and Stubbornness

**A/N:** Only three reviews? Ouch. But thanks to **twilightrocks999,**** JezCul666, **and** brokenfromthepast**. Happy Easter! (No offense meant to those who don't celebrate it.)

**Setting:** When Bella visits the Cullens' house in Twilight, and Emmett tries to reason with Rosalie.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Twilight. Stephenie Meyer does.

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Emmett.

"Please, Rosalie?" I asked hopefully, wishing it would be easier to convince her. But, like I knew she would, she scowled, hands resting upon her hips.

"No." Rosalie stuck her chin out defiantly, pouting like a little kid. I sighed over-exaggeratedly. Even in her anger and stubbornness, the corners of her mouth turned down in a frown, she still looked utterly perfect. "Look, Rose," I began, for what seemed like the millionth time, "You would just have to say hello. Welcome her. It wouldn't be that hard."

"But what if I don't want to welcome her?"

Time to get creative. "I'll...build us a new house?"

She brightened considerably, delight evident on her face. But still, she shook her head. "Tempting, but no."

"Another wedding?"

"Nope, sorry," she said, not sounding apologeic in the slightest.

"Er...we could move to Europe?"

_"Europe?" _

"Would you prefer Asia? Africa? Australia? Antarctica? South America?" I suggested, half-teasing, half-serious.

Rosalie laughed. "If I had to choose, Africa. But I'm _not_ choosing, so none. No, thank you." Her mouth curved up in a slight half smile as I pointedly looked away from her.

I groaned, staring up at the ceiling. "You are completely hopeless." I had offered everything I knew she'd love, but she never took the bribes. It _was_ hopeless.

She smiled, stretching out beside me on our huge bed, disrupting the overly-stuffed pillows she had perfectly straightened earlier this morning. Downstairs, I heard Bella say, "Edward can do everything, right?"

Rosalie snorted so loudly it was a miracle she didn't hear. Edward surely did, though, but I didn't hear any animosity in his voice as he laughed at Esme's chastising. _Laughed_. I couldn't even remember the last time he'd laughed before all this had happened. Well...I probably could, but you get the idea.

"Please? For me?" I tried again.

Rosalie melted a little, but she wouldn't look at me. "Any other favor, Em. But not this one."

I fell silent, wracking my brain for another way to get her to agree. But she spoke first. "What's so special about her, Emmett?"

"Absolutely nothing," I said at once, trying to appease her. Rosalie raised her eyebrows disbelievingly, turning to face me. "You're a terrible liar, you know that?"

I smiled, despite myself. "Okay, I admit it; I'm guilty."

"Well, then?" she asked, and I struggled to find the right words, words that wouldn't offend her. "Um..."

"I'm prettier than her, right?" Rosalie asked. Her face was uncertain, her eyebrows creased inwards. "Do you really need me to answer that?"

Rosalie groaned quietly. "Just answer the question, Em."

"Of course you are," I said, exasperated. She looked at me skeptically, as if she didn't believe what I was saying. "So why doesn't _he_ think so?"

"I'm not the mind reader in this family, Rosie." We were both quiet for a few moments, listening. Edward was playing his piano, the sweet music drifting upstairs. "They like you, you know. Esme especially," Edward was saying.

Bella sighed. Even this far away, I could hear her heart beating steadily, almost loudly. "_They _like me. But Rosalie and Emmett..."

Rosalie smiled at that. _I don't have a problem with her_, I assured Edward through my thoughts. _But _you're_ crazy._

"Don't worry about Rosalie. She'll come around," he said, and I could hear the falseness in his voice. Rosalie looked annoyed. I could practically hear all the angry thoughts she was mentally yelling at Edward, and I winced.

"Emmett?" Bella asked. I noticed, with a certain amount of pleasure, that her voice was rough, almost grating compared to Rosalie's.

"Well, he thinks I'm a lunatic, but he doesn't have a problem with you. He's trying to reason with Rosalie." Rosalie gave me a smug smile, and I thought to Edward, _It's not working._

"What is it that upsets her?" Bella asked, obviously clueless to the fact that vampires had super hearing skills.

"Rose-" I began again. "We shouldn't be listening to them. We should be downstairs, greeting her like Alice and Jasper were."

She cut me off. "Shh. I want to hear this."

"...It's hard for her to have someone on the outside know the truth. And she's a little jealous." Rosalie was openly scowling now. _"Jealous?" _I didn't bother to try to convince her otherwise. It would never work anyway. And, in the back corner of my mind, we both knew it was the truth.

Bella seemed to be having similar thoughts. "_Rosalie_ is jealous of _me_?"

Edward spoke hesitantly. "You're human. She wishes she were, too." But I knew it was more than that.

Years ago, before we'd moved to Forks, Carlisle had let slip that he'd meant for Rosalie and Edward to be together when he'd changed her. As weird as that sounded. And what had hurt Rosalie the most was that he hadn't even considered it, hadn't even thought about her in that way.

I sure as hell didn't mind that Edward had never found her beautiful, but for Rose it was different. Vanity was more important than everything else.

"Do you think I'm jealous, Emmett?" Rosalie asked lightly, almost teasingly, counting on the fact I would never speak a bad word against her. I ignored this.

"Rosalie," I started, "You can't ignore her forever. Either she'll be one of us, or Edward will kill her. You heard Alice."

She sighed. "Then I'm counting on the latter."

"Don't do this, Rose."

"Do what?" she asked innocently, and I groaned, frustrated. Rosalie was agonizingly stubborn, despite everything else that was perfect about her.

I rolled over, closing the distance between us, and kissed her in earnest. After a long moment, Rosalie freed her lips from mine, laughing breathlessly. "Is this your new method of persuasion?"

"Is it working?" I countered, not giving her a chance to reply. Rosalie pinned me to the bed, her arms holding me down. Not that I _wanted_ to go anywhere at that moment. She kissed me back, but it didn't feel like she was giving in.

My hand slid slowly up her leg, and she pressed her lips to my neck, her fingers nimbly undoing the buttons of my shirt.

Suddenly Rosalie had moved, standing in front of the bed with a broad smirk on her face. She straightened her already perfect curls in the mirror, and smoothed out the invisible creases in her dress. Finally she looked at me, with that same grin etched upon her face. "Did you really think it would be that easy to convince me?" she asked doubtfully.

"I..." She didn't give me a chance to reply. Rosalie bent towards me, planting a brief kiss upon my lips.

"Tempting, Emmett. But unfortunately, the answer is still no."

"Does that mean 'No, I won't meet Bella' or 'No, I won't sleep with you'?" I asked hopefully, sitting up.

Despite everything, she gave me an amused smile back. "Just the former, Em. Luckily for you." And, I thought, as I pulled her back down to the bed, that was good enough for me.

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**A/N:** Didn't really like this chapter, but it was necessary. What did you think? As I'm sure you know, reviews are always appreciated. Also, please include (if you haven't answered this) which chapter has been your favorite so far. And any suggestions you may have for the outtakes. Thanks.


	17. Useless Words and Hopeless Wishes

**A/N:** Thanks for the reviews and support: **Renesmee and Jacob love 4-ever, xCxBubblezX, brokenfromthepast, twilightrocks999, ObsesiveReader, BlissfullyHappy**, **TillITryIllNeverKnow, **and** JezCul666**. Surprisingly, the last chapter has gotten the highest number of reviews so far. Again, thanks not only if you review, but if you have this on your alerts or favorites.

**Setting: **Denali, after the Cullens have left Forks in _New Moon_.

**Note: **I'm not going to be writing all the events of the Twilight Saga from Rosalie or Emmett's point of view. Just some of the main ones that involve them, like "Unhappy Ending" in Rosalie's POV and the final "battle" in Breaking Dawn, for some examples.

**Disclaimer:** Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight, so I don't.

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Emmett.

"It's a beautiful day out, isn't it?" I said loudly, forcing a cheery grin onto my face. It was one of the few times I actually had to make myself smile. I saw Rosalie roll her eyes, indicating that she thought the situation was hopeless. And I was beginning to believe she was right.

"Sublime," Edward replied emotionlessly, staring blankly into space. I couldn't tell if he was trying to be sarcastic or not. He didn't even bother to glance out the nearby window at the cloud-covered sky, colored a dull, dreary gray.

Yeah, right. It was a simply _beautiful_ day.

"Absolutely," I agreed overenthusiastically. Edward sighed, the sound expressing more than he'd said in days. But he didn't speak again.

The house was unusually silent, with everyone gone hunting. Edward, like he'd always had, had refused to go with them.

Rosalie's nails tapped irritatingly on the counter. I shook my head. "So, how about we play some football later?" I asked Edward, though I already knew the answer he would give. "I heard from Kate that there's a great field a few miles north. And Alice said the weather will be nice. Maybe we can catch a mountain lion or two, huh?" My voice was false, strained. Even I could hear it.

I'd purposely avoided mentioning baseball, seeing as the last time we played, it had been with _Bella—_

"Leave me alone, Emmett," Edward interrupted my thoughts, his voice laced with audible pain. Oops. He avoided my gaze, and I winced.

_One game?_ I silently pleaded.

He shook his head, still not looking at me. "No, thank you." The polite response was clearly automatic.

Rosalie let out a pointed sigh, leaning against the polished cabinets, her arms crossed over her chest. I ignored her impatience for the moment.

"Edward, you have to go out. Hunt. It's been weeks." His eyes were an endless black, dark and unfathomable. It was almost scary to look at them. But apparently, he didn't think my statement was worth answering.

Time to try out some reverse psychology. "Okay, fine. Doesn't really matter, anyway. I mean, what's the big deal about blood, right? Tastes horrible." I tried to keep my tone nonchalant, not that it really mattered. Edward could read my thoughts anyway.

But it seemed that my psychologist skills weren't as good as I'd previously thought. He didn't even give any indication that he'd heard me.

God, where was my humor when I needed it? Though I doubt Edward would enjoy my endless supply of innuendos _now_.

I was beginning to lose what little hope I had left. Carlisle had already given up trying to convince him to go out, but Esme, Alice, and I made a valiant effort every day. Even Tanya tried to rouse him from his...depression. Not that it seemed to be helping much.

Edward stood suddenly, startling me from my thoughts. He'd practically been glued to his chair for weeks. "Changed your mind?" I asked hopefully.

He didn't smile. "I'm leaving, Emmett."

Confused, I stood too. "But where? Not to For—"

Edward cut me off before I could finish the name, grimacing. I mentally berated myself for bringing it up again. "No. I'm going to hunt." _Finally_. Maybe my psychological trick had actually worked...

He shook his head. "Not like that. I'm going after Victoria."

I couldn't see what this had to do with anything. "Why? What does it matter? She never acted against us last year." His expression hardened for an instant, then smoothed out.

"I need a distraction," he said simply, but I suspected he wasn't telling the whole truth. "She's still alive, and she chose to side with James. That's good enough for me."

"Let me go with you," I said, avoiding Rosalie's gaze. I'd promised her we'd go on a vacation soon, and I didn't want her to think this was more important than she was. He sighed, already moving towards his room. "No." His answer was final, unyielding. Grabbing a coat from the closet, he exited as quickly as he'd entered.

I wanted to argue. He couldn't do this alone. Jasper stepped into the room silently. His eyes met Edward's, an unspoken question. But Edward shook his head, not meeting his eyes. "I have to do this by myself. Tell everyone I'm going," he muttered, "If Alice doesn't."

Jasper looked as though he wanted to argue, but he didn't speak. I wracked my brain. "Esme will be heartbroken. _Again_."

"Don't try to guilt me out of this, Emmett." He looked annoyed, which made me slightly relieved. It had been a long time since he'd shown any emotion. Maybe this would be good for him.

"Edward, you should at least tell Carlisle yourself." I hesitated, unsure whether or not to try and persuade him otherwise. "Are you sure this is the right thing to do?"

Edward finally caught my eyes. "I'm sure." He didn't wait for an answer, but headed into Carlisle's study.

It wasn't a long conversation. Carlisle surely knew he wouldn't be able to convince him to stay.

Rosalie's hands caught me around my middle, holding me back from following him as he headed into the garage. "Let him go," she said quietly, and I reluctantly obeyed. Seconds later, I heard an engine roar, tires squealing as he backed out of the driveway.

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**Rosalie.**

Emmett let out an uncharacteristically heavy sigh as he slumped onto a chair, and Jasper disappeared moodily upstairs. I sat beside him, threading my fingers through his.

"It's for the best, Emmett," I said, though I knew the words were empty promises. His head had been bowed, but he looked up at my words.

"The best?" he asked humorlessly. "Whose? Ours or his?"

I smiled, trying to lighten up his unusually dark mood. "Both. Edward needs to get himself together, get over her. He'll move on, and come back. He always does. And, in the meantime, we can have some _alone_ time."

Surprisingly, Emmett didn't even crack a smile. But he tilted my head up to meet his lips. Impossibly breathless, I gently pulled my mouth away from him after a few long moments. His smile was back, but it wasn't nearly as wide as before.

It was slightly startling how quickly his mood had improved. But I brushed this thought aside, along with the curls that hung in front of my eyes.

"Don't I owe you something?" he asked, with a mischievous glint in his eyes. Puzzled, I shook my head. "I don't think so..."

Emmett grinned even wider, and the leftover shadow of Edward's presence seemed to disappear with it. He pulled out two rectangular slips of paper and held them out to me.

I took one hesitantly, scanning the machine printed words. I looked up at him, elated, with disbelief surely written all over my face. "Really?"

"Really," he confirmed, laughing lightly, golden eyes sparkling with mirth. "We're going to Africa."


	18. Chasing Cheetahs and Empty Deserts

**A/N:** I've been working on a new one-shot (for Percy Jackson and the Olympians, if you want to know), which is why this chapter is late. And life just happens, so sorry about the delay. Thanks for the reviews, as always: **twilightrocks999, JezCul666,****BlissfullyHappy, ****Renesmee and Jacob love 4-ever, **and** Emmett'sGrl101.**

**Setting: **Africa, during the events of _New Moon_. (They were actually supposed to have gone to Africa before _New Moon_ ever started, but I didn't know this until I'd written half the chapter. So we'll just pretend they didn't.)

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Twilight.

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**Rosalie.**

I quickly slid the shade down over the oval-shaped window, blocking out the sudden burst of sunshine between the clouds.

Next to me, Emmett shifted, letting out an obnoxious snore in his plush, first-class seat, feigning sleep. Straightening my sunglasses, I aimed a discreet kick at his leg. No need to look so suspicious. Or so obvious.

One eye opened slowly, almost lazily, and a slight grin curved the corner of his mouth. He sat up at stretched exaggeratedly, yawning the same way. I rolled my eyes.

"Are we there yet?" he asked. I resisted the urge to smile at his childlike impatience, biting down at the edge of my lower lip.

I glanced out a crack in the window, careful not to let in any sun. "Nope. Not yet."

He groaned. "Well, I'm going back to sleep." I snorted quietly. "Good luck with that, Em." And, with that, he leaned his head against my shoulder and let out another noisy snore right into my ear.

"I swear, Emmett, if you even _pretend_ to drool on my dress, there will be hell to pay when we get to Africa," I warned him seriously.

I felt, rather than saw, his smile. "Of course, Rosie."

Only Emmett heard my near silent groan, and I could have sworn, from the vibrations on my shoulder, that he was trying not to laugh.

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The sun, colored a bright, sunflower yellow, glared across the horizon, leaving me feeling exposed in the heat. I was incredibly conscious of the hot sunlight reflecting on my pale skin, casting glittering frames of radiance in all directions.

Emmett's carefree laughter echoed back to me, loud in the silence. "Come on, Rose!" he called, already far ahead.

I quickly buried the bloody carcass of the gazelle I'd just drained, hurrying to catch up with him. It wasn't too hard. He was running after a cheetah, if you could call it_ running_. It was, truthfully, more like walking.

The animal darted off across the plain, an orange and black blur. Unfortunately for it, Emmett was much faster. He caught up to it with little effort, but lagged behind purposely, spurring it even faster.

I sighed. He had always liked toying with his food; it was something I'd never understand. "Just get it over with, Emmett."

He laughed again, and with a swift, sudden strike, knocked the animal the ground, teeth sinking into its fragile neck. Within seconds, he was finished. But his clothes were very nearly soaked in blood, turning the cloth from white to red.

I wrinkled my nose, but Emmett didn't seem to care. "You know," I began playfully, "Cheetahs are endangered animals."

A grin spread easily across his face, nearly blinding with the added effect of his dazzling skin. "Technically, Rose, they're listed as _threatened_."

I rolled my eyes, shaking my head. "Same thing. Anyway, they're not even very fast."

"I know." He pouted. "I was expecting much more of a competition."

"So, you still like grizzly bears best?" I asked, hiding a smile behind my hand. "Definitely. Though, I must say, cheetahs are simply _exquisite_. Much better than mountain lion," he said.

I let out a laugh that I'd been suppressing. "If you say so, Em." He smiled again, the childish dimples showing in his cheeks.

"Hey, Emmett?" I asked, "I bet I can catch a cheetah faster than you can." It was a harmless sentence, with just the right amount of challenge in my voice to attract him. Emmett raised a single eyebrow, like I knew he would.

"Sure about that, Rose?" he asked, "I'd hate to beat you." His eyes were teasing, but there was a spark of daring buried in them.

I winked. "I'm pretty sure."

Without replying, Emmett took off running, sand flying behind him. His joyous laughter carried back to where I stood. "We'll see about that!"

He'd win, of course. I was no good at real hunting, or competition. But sometimes I liked to boost his confidence a little. Not that he needed it, but it was pleasing all the same.

A swift motion removed the silver hair clip that held up my hair, releasing the curls down my back. I swept my hair over my shoulder with a quick jerk of my hand, and ran after Emmett. Wind swirled past, the feeling glorious and full of freedom. It brushed my hair in all directions, eliminating my earlier efforts, but I didn't stop to smooth it down as usual.

There was no sight of Emmett anywhere, busy as he was searching for another cheetah.

Closing my eyes, I listened for sounds of a heartbeat. I heard Emmett, running, and the heavier sound of what could be the very animal I was looking for. I scanned the desert landscape for a sign of orange fur and black spots.

It was my lucky day. A lone animal sprinted across the land, a blur of color. I ran towards it at once, eager to finally win against Emmett.

But it turned out that another person was chasing the cheetah, too. Emmett darted out of the brush and started towards it, picking up speed. I pushed myself even faster, uncaring for once of the dust and dirt that was collecting on my clothes.

With a loud noise, like slamming rocks, Emmett and I collided, rolling to a stop on the hot sand. The cheetah seemed surprised at the fact it was still alive, but it took off, seemingly eager to get away from us.

For a second we both stared at the running cheetah. Then Emmett spat out a mouthful and sand and started laughing. He was surprisingly cheerful for having just ate dirt, and I couldn't help but join in.

"I think I won," I finally said, as our laughter eventually subsided.

He rolled his eyes. "Are you kidding? You said whoever _caught_ a cheetah first. And, obviously, none of us caught one."

"Well, I was closer to it than you were," I lied, not actually knowing if it was true or not. Emmett laughed again, conceding. "Sure, Rose. You win."

"Really?" I asked. It had been way too easy to conivince him. I didn't even think my words had qualified as convincing.

But Emmett had rolled over so that he was facing me. His eyes shone a bright gold in the light from the setting sun. "You know, Rosie, this desert is awfully empty..." He trailed off suggestively, his mouth twisting into a oddly gentle grin.

I felt my lips curve into a smile, a strangely happy mood gripping me. I let my eyelashes flutter shut over my eyes, closing the short distance between us with my lips, an unspoken answer to his words. And suddenly, a new source of warmth flooded through me.

Emmett held me gently to the soft sand, fingers twining into my hair. "Guess what, Rosalie?"

He didn't give me a chance to answer for several long moments. "What?" I gasped, freeing my lips.

I felt his smile against my mouth, along with his words. "I think, in a way, we both won." He kissed me again, and as desire overwhelmed every other emotion I had, I had to agree.

After all, it wasn't as if he had left much room for discussion.

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**A/N: **In no way do I support the poaching of cheetahs in Africa or any parts of the world. :)

This was a kind of a pointless chapter, and way more fluffy than normal. Please review and tell me what you thought. Thanks. The next chapter will be back on track, with Rosalie's phone call to Edward to tell him that Bella was supposedly "dead."


	19. Ruminations, Resolves, and Regrets

**A/N:** Ninety reviews! Only ten more to go until we get to a hundred. You guys are the best. Here's another chapter (early, for a change), thanks to **JezCul-666 **and** BlissfullyHappy**.

**Setting:** During _New Moon_, after Alice's vision of Bella "dying."

**Disclaimer:** Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight and the dialogue and bits and pieces taken from the extras on her website. Relient K owns the lyrics below, from the song "I So Hate Consequences."

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**I had no idea where my head was at,**

**But if my heart says I'm sorry,**

**Can we leave it at that?**

**Because I just want for all of this to end.**

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**Emmett.**

"We shouldn't tell him," Jasper said at once, forehead creased. No one needed to ask whom he was referring to.

Carlisle nodded in agreement, eyes turned downwards. I realized it was not only because of Edward, but because of Bella, too. He mourned for the dead girl who might have become his daughter. And I did, too, for the sister I'd never have.

Everyone looked miserable, even Rosalie. It was comforting to know that she, too, was sad for Edward's loss. Even if it was in ways I didn't understand.

But I agreed with Jasper. The painful idea of Rosalie not existing anymore was too strange, too unimaginable. I couldn't wrap my mind around it.

Rosalie cleared her throat loudly, looking shiftily around at us. "I think we should tell him."

I stared at her, speechless. Surely she could understand why it was obviously necessary to be kept secret?

She avoided all of our eyes, twisting a curl of golden hair nervously with her finger. "Look, no one's been happy while he's been gone. He's being selfish! He didn't care about _us_; he didn't even stop to think what his leaving would do to us! When we tell him, he can just come home."

She glared at all of us, as if daring us to argue. Alice straightened up, eyes flashing.

"And what do you expect to happen when he gets back, Rose? If he even comes back? One big happy family? Bella is _dead_." Her voice trembled on the last word.

Esme made a soft sound of agreement. Carlisle put a hand on Rosalie's shoulder, silencing her angry retort. "We all miss him, Rosalie. But telling him now would just be cruel."

Rosalie didn't say a word, her head bowed. I slipped my fingers through hers, squeezing hard. "Carlisle's right," I said softly, "We can't tell him." She sighed, but didn't reply. Figuring it was the best answer I'd get, I pressed my lips gently against her cheek. A thank you.

Alice frowned, her eyes unfocusing. "I'm going back," she announced. "For Charlie's sake."

Everyone stared at her in disbelief. "You promised Edward—" I began, but Jasper cut me off. "I'm coming with you." There was no room in his voice for discussion.

"You can't, Jazzy," she whispered. I averted my eyes as they argued in whispers. A few moments later, Jasper remained with us as Alice left, the door sliding shut with a close to silent catch.

It was quiet as we listened to the sound of Carlisle's Mercedes take off towards Forks.

Then, the talk moved awkwardly to a discussion about hunting, but I tuned it out easily.

I couldn't help but think, again, of Rosalie. If it had been her who died. But I shook these dark thoughts away, comforted by the fact that Rosalie was here, alive, and in my arms. With the added bonus of being immortal and close to invincible.

And I couldn't help but think that I was pretty damn lucky.

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**Rosalie.**

Absentmindedly, I pulled my hand out of Emmett's, trying to seem focused on my family's discussion.

In reality, I was trying not to think about what I'd already resolved to do. It was unfair to keep Bella's suicide a secret from Edward. He'd want to know.

I wanted him to come home. It was probably the most selfless thing I'd wished for. Everyone would be happier, and we could move on from it all. It didn't seem as tragic as everyone had made it out to be. They could never keep the truth from him forever.

It wasn't just the others that were affected my his absence. The truth was, I missed him. I hadn't realized exactly how much he meant to me until he was gone. I longed to hear the soft music drifting from his piano, now gathering dust in the foyer, his cutting little remarks, the black wit that was more in harmony with my own sense of humor than Emmett's sunny, jokey nature. And I missed the time we spent together, tuning the cars, the only time we'd ever get along well.

"Coming, Rose?" Esme asked kindly, though her tone was still mournful.

I shook my head to clear it. "No, I think I'll stay," I said carefully, trying not to project my guilty feelings towards Jasper.

Emmett leaned forward to kiss me lightly, not picking up my tension. "Be back soon." I kissed him back distractedly, already regretting not telling him.

But he would stop me.

Then the house was silent once more, a blessed relief. I slid my cellphone from the pocket of my jeans, waiting until I could no longer hear my family's running footsteps.

And I dialed Edward's phone number.

Close by, a twig snapped loudly. I jumped, slamming the phone shut and hiding it behind my back. But it was probably just an animal; a deer, a rabbit.

I breathed in deeply, and dialed the numbers again. No answer, no friendly "Leave a message." But I tried again. He'd answer eventually.

And I was right, twenty-four tries and with a considerably higher amount of annoyance, Edward answered. "What?" he asked, his voice loud and tense. So he didn't even bother with "How are you?" Or, even, "how's the family?"

"Oh, wow. Edward answered the phone. I feel so honored," I snapped, irritated. Which was a mistake. Immediately, the dial tone rang harshly in my ear. Groaning, I pressed redial for the twenty-sixth time. Why was he so annoyingly sensitive? Just when I was sure he wouldn't answer, his voice sounded in my ear. "Get on with it."

At his tone, I was suddenly unsure. But I ploughed ahead blindly, rushing through the words. "I thought you would want to know Alice is in Forks."

It certainly got his attention, but his voice was the same. Emotionless. "What?"

"You know how Alice is—thinks she knows everything. Like you." I was babbling, scared he would hang up, and also that he wouldn't.

There was a long silence. I finally broke it, too anxious. "Are you still there, Edward?" No answer. "Edward? Don't you even care why Alice is there?"

His response was slow, but it was a response nevertheless. "Not particularly."

Glad that he'd at least replied, I continued, feeling a bit more confident. "Well, of course, she's not exactly breaking the rules. I mean, you only warned us to stay away from Bella, right? The rest of Forks doesn't matter."

I let that sink in. I hoped he'd get the hint. A strange noise issued from the speaker, like someone trying to swallow.

"So you don't need to be angry with Alice." I let out a quiet laugh, ruined by my nervousness.

Edward seemed to regain control of his voice. "Then why did you call me, Rosalie, if not to get Alice in trouble? Why are you bothering me? Ugh!"

I could tell he was inches away from pressing "end". "Wait!" I said quickly, "That's not why I called."

An edge of anger crept into his voice. "Then why? Tell me quickly, and then _leave me alone_." I hesitated. Why was it so hard to force the words from my lips. Bella jumped off a cliff. Bella died. Bella was no longer with us. Bella was in a 'better place'. "Well..." I began.

"Spit it out, Rosalie. You have ten seconds."

I opened my mouth, but chickened out at the last second. But the words were true all the same. "I think you should come home. I'm tired of Esme grieving and Carlisle never laughing. You should feel ashamed at what you've done to them. Emmett misses you all the time and it's getting on my nerves. You have a family. Grow up and think about something besides yourself."

Edward gave a dry chuckle. "Interesting advice, Rosalie. Let me tell you a little story about a pot and a kettle..."

Annoyed at his patronizing comment, I interrupted. "I am thinking about them, unlike you. Don't you care how much you've hurt Esme, if no one else? She loves you more than the rest of us, and you know that. Come home."

He didn't answer, and I waited in silence. A long way off, I heard a loud burst of laughter, and I nearly dropped the phone. Edward still hadn't said anything. I sighed. "I thought once this whole thing with Forks was finished, you would get over it."

I listened patiently to his long speech about how Forks wasn't really the problem and how it wouldn't be any happier if he were here, but I caught a key point in it that was gone. He had jumped to conclusions. He'd assumed Bella had _moved to Florida_. If only it were that simple. I wouldn't even be calling.

"Um..." I interjected, a nervous feeling coiling in my stomach.

"What is it that you're not telling me, Rosalie? Is Esme alright? Is Carlisle—"

There he was, jumping to conclusions. The wrong ones. "They're fine. It's just...well, I didn't say that Bella _moved_."

I swallowed loudly. "They didn't want to tell you, but I think that's stupid. The quicker you get over this, the sooner things can go back to normal. Why let you mope around dark corners of the world when there's no need for it? You can come home now. We can be a family again. It's over."

Silence. Had he hung up again? But no, the call was still connected. "Edward?"

"I don't understand what you are saying, Rosalie." His voice was calm, collected. He didn't know. What would he sound like when I told him the news?

I paused, hesitating, the length of a few human heartbeats. And then I took the plunge, and said the very words I'd later regret.

"She's dead, Edward."

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**A/N:** There's a lovely little piece on Stephenie Meyer's website (Under The Twilight Saga; New Moon; Extras; Miscalculation) that I think is a great follow-up to this chapter. It's even in Rosalie's point of view.

Anyway, please review.


	20. Bittersweet Smiles and An Unhappy Ending

**A/N:** Five reviews until a hundred! Don't I feel special. Thanks to **BlissfullyHappy, AlexaC, twilightrocks999, **and** JezCul666.**

My AP World History test is in seven days, and yet here's another chapter. No update next week, though. I'll be busy studying...and trying not to fail.

**Setting: **The chapter called "Unhappy Ending" in _Eclipse_. (I feel like I've been drowning you in Rosalie's point of view lately, but don't worry, the next chapter will be all Emmett's.)

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Twilight. Or the fragments of dialogue taken from Eclipse.

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**Rosalie.**

She was making the wrong choice. All the mistakes I, if I'd had a chance to be human again, would never make.

I fidgeted in the doorway of the room I shared with Emmett, still unsure. I'd only ever told Emmett what had happened to me all those years ago, and yet I was planning to tell a _human_. One I rather detested, to be honest. And it wasn't exactly a secret to her, I figured.

I wished Emmett were here. He'd tell me if this was the right thing to do, tell me if he thought I was making a mistake.

But he was no doubt hundred of miles away, hunting grizzly bears in the depths of the forest.

"What the hell is all this?" came Bella's voice from inside Edward's room, incredulous.

I'd had the same reaction when I'd seen the gigantic, ornate bed Edward had ordered. What was the use of a bed if he didn't sleep? Or wouldn't have sex with Bella? It seemed pointless to both me and Emmett. But then, I've never really understood my brother.

"You didn't really think he would make you sleep on the couch, did you?" Alice asked, laughing. "I'll give you some privacy. See you in the morning."

Alice slipped out the door, closing it gently behind her. Her golden eyes immediately found me where I lurked in the hallway, deliberating.

"Well?" she asked, eyes bright and knowing, "What are you waiting for?"

I shrugged carelessly, brushing back a lock of hair from my shoulders. Alice glanced back at the closed door. "Don't expect her to change her mind, though."

"I'll keep that in mind," I said softly, "Thank you." She nodded, already disappearing into her and Jasper's room.

The door was unremarkable, dark, polished wood. I brought my hand up slowly, inches away from the surface. And I tapped my knuckles gently across it, just loud enough for human ears.

"What, Alice?" came her voice from inside, sounding annoyed. The round door handle was warm to the touch. I took a deep breath that only lasted for a millisecond, and pushed open the door.

"It's me," I said slowly, wanting to suddenly turn around and say 'wrong room.' But I didn't. I couldn't. "Can I come in?"

I was met with a strange sight. The bed was empty, literally. The covers and pillows had been stripped and piled on the black couch, upon which Bella lay. Moonlight pooled through the glass window, casting puddles of light on the wooden floor.

And, for a moment, I admired her stubbornness. Even it was silly.

"Of course," Bella said, surprise coloring her tone, "Come on in."

I moved slowly, to make sure I wouldn't startle her. Sitting lightly on the edge of the couch, I wondered if it was too late to change my mind.

But my less-cowardly side protested. "Do you mind talking to me for a few minutes? I didn't wake you or anything, did I?" I realized I was staring at the bed she'd abandoned, and switched my gaze back to her face.

"No, I was awake. Sure, we can talk." Her voice was startled and uncertain, as though she wondered why I would want to talk to her. I knew I hadn't exactly made the best impression on her in the past.

I laughed, so as to lighten the atmosphere. "He so rarely leaves you alone. I figured I'd better make the best of this opportunity."

Bella looked puzzled at my words. "Please don't think I'm horribly interfering," I murmured, avoiding what I knew I should-and wanted-to say, "I'm sure I've hurt your feelings enough in the past, and I don't want to do that again."

"Don't worry about it, Rosalie," she said easily, if a bit awkwardly, "My feelings are great. What is it?"

How could she pass this off, shrug away from the hurtful things I'd said and thought in the past? It seemed impossible to me, but maybe she was different.

I laughed again, the sound nervous yet still chiming. "I'm going to try to tell you why I think you should stay human-why I would stay human if I were you."

Her expression immediately stiffened, an involuntary movement I'd expected. "Oh."

I stared at the thin cracks running through the wooden floor, wondering how to begin. It wouldn't be so hard. Telling Emmett had been so much harder than this would ever be.

I sighed. "Did Edward ever tell you what led to this?" I asked softly.

Bella nodded. "He said it was close to what happened to me that time in Port Angeles, only no one was there to save _you_." She shuddered, closing her eyes at the memory.

I was surprised that Edward hadn't told her what had really happened. "Is that really all he told you?" I wondered, unsure if she was trying to be polite or not.

But the confusion on her face was genuine. "Yes. Was there more?"

_More._ Such a short word, yet it held everything. I smiled bitterly. "Yes," I finally answered, "There was more."

I glanced sharply away, away from her curious and frightened eyes. The crescent moon hung low in the sky, a bright, pure white. My reflection stared back at me in the clear glass, wistfullness lingering in the familiar planes of my face.

It was several seconds before I realized my hands were clenched into fists. I released them slowly, examining the miniature silver crescents dug into my skin.

"Would you like to hear my story, Bella? It doesn't have a happy ending-but which of ours does? If we had happy endings, we'd all be under gravestones now."

My eyes returned to her plain face, and she nodded. I didn't take the time to analyze the fear in her eyes.

"I lived in a different world than you do, Bella. My human world was a much simpler place. It was nineteen thirty-three. I was eighteen, and I was beautiful. My life was perfect..."

And so, I told my story. She never interrupted. Even as I looked away, imagining I was speaking to no one, her eyes never left my face.

I told it all, the words pouring out in endless waves. My parents, Vera, Henry, Royce. The sentences blurred together incomprehensibly, and the memories I'd buried in the back of my mind were clearer than ever.

Her horror and disgust was written all over her face as I told of the night I wished I'd died, my revenge, the murders, a monster killing greater, more terrible monsters. It was with the expression in her wide eyes that I broke off before I could tell her what exactly I'd done to them.

A good thing, too, I thought, from the sickly color of her already pale face. "I'm surprised Edward didn't tell you more about it."

After hearing her explanation, I had to smile, shaking my head in disbelief. "I probably ought to give him more credit. He's really quite decent, isn't he?"

Bella smiled, and for a moment, I felt no antagonism towards her. "_I_ think so."

"I can tell," I told her. But another thought caught my attention, and I felt the smile slide slowly off my face as I sighed. "I haven't been fair to you either, Bella. Did he tell you why? Or was that too confidential?"

I was hoping for the latter. I couldn't imagine the terrible things she'd probably thought of me if she had known I was _jealous_.

And I was right. "He said it was because I was human," she said slowly, "He said it was harder for you to have someone on the outside who knew."

It was partially correct, but barely. The truth stretched too thinly. He'd respected so much of my secrets, and I felt all the worse for acting the way I had, both towards him and Bella. I shook my head, laughing lightly at the impossibility of the situation.

"Now I really feel guilty. He's been much, much kinder to me than I deserve."

"He was lying?" Bella asked warily, raising her eyebrows.

I shook my head. "Well, that's probably putting it too strongly. He just didn't tell you the whole story. What he told you was true, even truer now than it was before. However, at the time..."

I couldn't bring myself to finish. What would she think of me? "It's embarrassing," I concluded, with a nervous laugh, "You see, at first, I was mostly jealous-" The word was strange in my mouth, as I'd never really admitted it _aloud_, "-because he wanted _you_ and not me."

Her eyes widened. I recognized the fear shining in them. "But you love Emmett..." she mumbled, eyes turned downwards.

_Emmett?_ I felt another strange urge to laugh again. After everything I'd told her, couldn't she see why I'd felt like that?

"I don't want Edward that way, Bella. I never did-I love him as a brother, but he's irritated me from the first moment I heard him speak. You have to understand, though...I was so used to people wanting me. And Edward wasn't in the least bit interested. It frustrated me, even offended me in the beginning. But he never wanted anyone, so it didn't bother me long. Even when we first met Tanya's clan in Denali-all those females!-Edward never showed the slightest preference. And then he met you."

I looked at her, unsure how to continue. I didn't want to offend her by telling her that I couldn't see why exactly Edward had chosen _her_, out of every single person in the universe.

"Not that you aren't pretty, Bella," I lied fluidly, seeing her creased forehead.

"But you still don't like me," Bella guessed, frowning. Her unremarkable brown eyes were hard to read.

I smiled sadly, tilting my head in a nod. "I'm sorry about that." And it was the truth. I didn't _want_ to not like her, but I did nevertheless. Even though it would be so much easier if I didn't.

"Why?" she whispered.

And the animosity returned startlingly, in full force. "Don't you see? You have everything, Bella. You have a choice, and you're choosing _wrong!_" My fingernails dug deeper into my own skin, fighting the urge to scream at her, to name every single thing she was doing wrong, every single thing she'd regret.

I closed my eyes at the sight of her terrified face, ashamed and chagrined.

But I continued my story, explained how-and why-I'd saved Emmett, too selfish to leave him to die.

It was bittersweet, the end. I was happy enough, but still yearning. And as I bid her goodnight and closed the door, I sighed. For myself, of course, but also for Bella. I had told her everything, my idiotic mistakes, regrets, and everything I'd taken for granted. But I knew she hadn't changed her mind.

She thought she wasn't like me, that she wouldn't regret what she'd lost. But I knew the truth. She _would_ be unhappy, eventually.

And as childishly vindictive as it was, I hoped I would be around to see as she finally realized that _I_ had been right, as she mourned for the life she could've have.

Like I did.

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**A/N: **I had my copy of Eclipse for only the first half of the chapter, so sorry for the factual and dialogue errors at the end.

Just a quick question. I'm thinking of writing Rosalie's and Emmett's wedding night in more detail, and adding it as an outtake. But since I don't want to change the rating of this to M, I might post it as a separate one-shot. Would you guys read it, if I did? Or would you rather have it as an outtake? Let me know what you think in a review. Thanks.


	21. Scarlet Eyes and Burning Limbs

**A/N:** Ninety-nine reviews? Wow. To be honest, I really never imagined I'd get so many. You're all amazing: **BlissfullyHappy, TwilightLovaar,**** twilightrocks999, **and **JezCul-666. **Also, I've decided that I _will_ write their wedding night as an outtake. If you're uncomfortable about reading that, you're not under any obligation to. It'll be the very last chapter of this story.

**Setting:** Before, during, and after the newborn battle in _Eclipse_.

**Warning:** Violence, vampire style. Nothing excessively graphic.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Twilight.

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**Emmett.**

The silence was irritating.

Well, technically, it wasn't silent. I could hear the growling of mountain lions as they hunted to the west, the water trickling noisily in an undiscovered spring, the swish of Rosalie's hair as she tossed it back uneasily, the crunch of trampled snow and grass as Jasper paced.

But still. No one spoke as we listened to the most important sound, the light footfalls of the supposed vampire army, approaching from the north.

I cast a glance at Alice's face, but it was as impassive as ever, her eyes unfocused as she saw what no one else could.

Her gold eyes opened to reveal triumph. Her lips formed silent words. _They'll fall for it._

We all breathed a collective sigh of relief. It hadn't been easy, working with _werewolves_, but it was the best option. The least harmful to all of us, at least.

Rosalie crossed over to me silently and took my hand in hers, the worry nearly erased from her face. I used my other arm to pull her closer, wrapping it tightly around her waist.

"See, Rosie?" I murmured into her ear. "We'll be fine."

She blew out a pent-up breath, her head leaning against my shoulder. "I hope so."

I rolled my eyes, pulling my hand free from hers. "Don't be so melodramatic. Stop acting like I'm going to die, okay? None of us will. With the dogs helping us, this'll be easy."

"Okay," she whispered simply, her arms winding around me again. I pressed my lips to her glass-smooth cheek. "Was that really sincere?" I asked. I felt her skin stretch slightly under my lips as Rosalie smiled.

"What do you think?" she asked teasingly.

"I hope so," I answered honestly. She tilted her head upwards and kissed me briefly, her lips fleeting yet urgent against mine. "Me, too."

"I'm _not_ going to die," I said again, my voice rough. I kissed her first this time, longer than the last. She uncharacteristically pulled me closer, fingers tightening in my hair.

...Not that I was complaining.

My fingers started to travel, but I froze, remembering our family and the newborn vampires close at hand. I pried my mouth (reluctantly, of course) away from Rosalie's, and her grip loosened.

Everyone was averting their eyes. Jasper very pointedly sent a wave of neutrality over us, and I rolled my eyes yet again.

"Later, Rosie," I promised, and half of me meant it. The other half just wanted to rub it in my family's faces. I threw an over-exaggerated wink in her direction. Rosalie raised her eyebrows, smiling.

"Focus, Emmett, Rosalie," Jasper called. "They're almost here." But Carlisle smiled in our direction, his hand entwined with Esme's, and I grinned back.

And that was when nine newborn vampires with glowing red eyes burst into the clearing. Their clothes were grimy and old, but the sun casted its light upon their pale skin, rainbows illuminating the otherwise dreary day.

We were forced into movement from the rush of attacking vampires.

I lost sight of Rosalie in the midst of, well, everything. It was, honestly, complete chaos. I couldn't have told you how exactly I managed to avoid ripping my own family's limbs off. Luck, I guess you could say.

Agonized screams and the horrible, grating sound of vampires being ripped apart pierced the air, loud and distracting.

I wasn't sure how long we fought. It was a blur of barely perceptible motion, sheer instinct rather than discernable thoughts. Snarls and growls echoed loudly from the surrounding forest. The only witnesses to the fight were the ancient trees edging the large clearing.

A male vampire nearly as broad as I was caught me in a headlock from behind, barely flinching as I slammed my fist directly into his face, limbs flailing wildly. His hands tightened their grip on my forearm, as if to tear it cleanly off.

_Ouch._ I groaned at the sharp pain.

And the pressure suddenly, blissfully, vanished. I swiveled my head, massaging my left arm, just in time to see Rosalie rip the limbs off the idiot who'd been about to do the same to me. His screams died away in the suddenly silent air.

I grinned sheepishly in her direction. "Not going to die, huh, Emmett?" she said, rolling her eyes.

Her blonde curls were tangled and messy, jeans dirt stained and ripped in several places. But she looked oddly beautiful as she flung the torn remains of my attacker away. Of course, she always did, but there was something different about her now. I glanced around, preparing myself to fight, but nothing was left of the newborns but scattered body parts, pale and eerie-looking.

It had all gone as smoothly as we could have possibly predicted.

Everyone was tossing the remaining shreds of the army into a huge pile along with branches and pine needles, while Jasper rummaged for a lighter in his pockets. I kicked a head straight into the growing pile. The long black hair splayed outward as it rolled, colliding with a unmoving hand.

I shuddered. "C'mon, Emmett," Rosalie said softly, "Let's help."

"How many, Alice?" Jasper asked, surveying the clearing. She tossed another white piece into the pile. "Eight."

Esme frowned. "There were eighteen total in your vision, Alice. If they split evenly between us and the werewolves, then wouldn't there be nine...?"

A sharp movement at the edge of the soon-to-be bonfire caught everyone's attention. We crept cautiously over.

Brilliant red eyes peeked out, framed by dark brown hair. The girl's face was, of course, pale, her expression seeming almost...scared. Jasper came up behind her at once, arms imprisoning her, preventing any movement. But she didn't struggle. Carlisle stepped forward, hands up in a gesture of peace.

"Surrender is an option," he offered calmly, ignoring Jasper's obvious look of outrage. "If you do not continue to fight against us."

"I surrender," the girl whispered, her eyes fixed on the heap of her former comrades. Jasper, at Carlisle's insistence, released his hold. She sank to the ground, curling up on the earth. Jasper knelt beside her, his stance wary. I noticed a brighter crescent, shining silver, on his left arm.

Within a few minutes, the ground had been completely cleared of any remnants of the newborns. The pyre was lit, flames licking eagerly, while thick smoke began to drift lazily into the sky. The pungent smell turned my nose.

Two more plumes of smoke were visible in the distance. A good sign, hopefully.

A werewolf entered the clearing, in human form, followed by two more in wolf form. He was clearly uncomfortable. "Jacob was injured," he explained, "Sam requested that Carlisle attend to him."

Carlisle nodded, and the wolves looked wary as he approached them.

"The Volturi will be here in thirteen minutes," Alice said warningly, "Edward and Bella are also on their way."

He glanced at the newborn, then at the werewolf whose name I couldn't be bothered to remember. "Stay here. I'll be back shortly."

The purplish smoke would have obscured pretty much everything to human eyes, but not for us. Rosalie pulled me farther away from the bonfire, from the others.

"You were wrong to worry," I murmured, after a few moments.

Rosalie raised an eyebrow. "Was I? I seem to remember a certain newborn about to tear you apart if I hadn't saved _you_."

I winced. "Besides _that_, then." She shrugged, sliding her arms around my neck. "I suppose." It suddenly hit me, the sheer fact that we had all survived, that we would live. The Volturi's soon appearance in the clearing would seem like a minor detail.

So I kissed her, the sweet smell of roses completely drowning out the odor of burning limbs.

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**A/N:** Ugh. Violence and action are not my forte, but I hope you enjoyed it all the same. Reviews are always appreciated. The hundredth reviewer gets...well, nothing, but I hope you review anyway. Next chapter will be Bella and Edward's wedding.


	22. Pride and, Surprisingly, No Prejudice

**A/N:** The good thing about summer for me is faster updates for you. It's amazing how much I'm able to write without school in the way. Thanks for the all the reviews.

**Setting:** Edward's and Bella's wedding in _Breaking Dawn_.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Twilight.

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Emmett.

"One, two, three!" Edward ordered, rolling his eyes, and we pretended to heft the "heavy" pavilion upright. Of course, just one of us could have assembled it easily himself, but guests were arriving and it would have definitely looked conspicious.

_Can I go?_ I asked Edward mentally, after we'd finished. He nodded, but the expression of his face was unreadable. I rolled my eyes.

_Lighten up!_ I added, punching him teasingly on the arm, before adding aloud, "It's your _wedding_."

I stepped lightly up the marble stairs to the room I shared with Rosalie. I was sure that I'd find her worrying over her appearance. But the lights were off, and the room was, surprisingly, empty.

The smell of all those flowers assaulted my nose. It was slightly nauseating, if it were possible for vampires to be nauseous. Personally, I preferred roses.

Frowning, I peeked into the room where Bella was getting ready, the door cracked open just a sliver.

And there she was, as beautiful as ever, doing some kind of twisting thing with Bella's hair. An unrecognizable emotion washed over me. Maybe...pride?

Yes, I was proud of her, more than I could express with words or even thoughts.

I'd thought this would be the same old thing that everyone went through, having Rosalie always be so incredibly envious, too proud for her own good. But maybe, hopefully, she was getting over that. I smiled slowly, uncaring that looked like an idiot as I stood in the hallway, not wanting to interrupt their work.

It might not be easy, but she was trying, making an effort. That was all that really mattered.

It was proof: she could change her ways. This was one of them I'd thought it would be impossible to get rid of. It was a part of her, vanity. Rightfully so.

But I was glad, for once, that I might actually be wrong.

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Rosalie.

I closed the door gently behind me, dropping the causual facade I'd managed to build. Sudden hands gripping my shoulders made me jump. "Emmett!" I gasped, clutching my still heart, "Don't do that."

He pulled me abruptly into his arms. "I love you so much." There was strong emotion in his words, truth shining clearly in them.

I frowned, puzzled by his uncharacteristic behavior. I was about to reiterate his profession, but his hands, carefully placed on my flawlessly done hair, tilted my head up to meet his lips.

There was something different in it, an underlying triumph that made it fiercer, yet somehow sweeter. Gently, the wall of the hallway pressed into my back.

"God, Emmett," I murmured giddily, my breathing ragged against his lips. "I don't doubt that my hair is completely ruined now."

But it wasn't as though I _really_ cared about my hair right now. He laughed, a rumbling bass that I felt through his chest, and placed a kiss against my head. "Don't worry. It looks perfect."

I unwound my arms, smoothing out the wrinkles in his tuxedo. "I have to go find Jasper."

"Are you sure?" Emmett asked, his voice low and smooth, "Our room is only a few steps away. There's really no need for a room at all, actually..." He kissed me again, deeper and more persuasive. I groaned, sliding away from him. It was a miracle how I even managed to force myself to pull away. "I _really_ have to find Jasper, Em."

Emmett raised his eyebrows. "Ah. Tired of me already, are you?" His faux-worried look made me smile.

I kissed his cheek, rolling my eyes. "He's supposed to be picking up Bella's mother and step-father from the airport."

"Have fun." Emmett chuckled as I walked away, his suggestive words lingering in the air.

"Jasper?" I called softly, reaching the bottom step of the stairs. I heard the door to the garage slam, footsteps on the hardwood floors. "We're here, Rosalie," he said, ushering Bella's parents inside the house.

I stepped over to meet them. "Hello," I said, smiling sincerely and hoping that Emmett hadn't lied when he told me my hair was fine, "I'm Rosalie, Edward's adopted sister."

Renee and Phil, like all humans, were rendered speechless. "It's nice to meet you," she finally said, shaking my hand. Her husband nodded his consent.

Esme entered the room, her eyes lighting up as she caught sight of Renee. They exchanged a few pleasantries, which melded into a discussion on wedding details. Emmett purposely walked into the room, and I sighed internally at the introduction I'd have to make.

"This is Emmett," I said, "My, er, adopted brother also." He waved, grinning at my discomfort. My eyes pleaded for him not to make a scene, but he ignored this, planting a kiss on my cheek and slinging an arm around my waist. I winced as I caught sight of Bella's parents' expressions.

"Bella's, um, getting ready upstairs. Shall we, Renee?" I offered quickly, extricating myself and shooting a death glare at Emmett too quick for the humans to notice.

I led her upstairs to Alice's room, aware of her unease.

After a quick inspection in my vanity mirror, I found that Emmett hadn't actually been lying about my hair. Honey-colored curls were still perfectly piled, not a hair out of place. I would have spent more time inspecting my reflection, but it was too late for that.

The wedding would start soon; I could hear the thundering of a hundred human hearts beating in anticipation. I was glad I'd gone hunting with Emmett yesterday.

Flitting down the stairs, I slipped onto the plain bench in front of Edward's piano, feeling peaceful. Music was one of the few things I enjoyed. My fingers glided over the crisp black and white keys, easily and unconciously playing the march I'd memorized years ago.

Bella made her entrance, and I was relieved to find only a small amount of jealousy at the sigh that swept over the crowd. She _was_ beautiful—today, at least. I could give her that much credit.

My eyes focused on Emmett, standing to Edward's right. His gaze barely glanced over Bella, I noticed with some satisfaction.

The ceremony seemed short; the vows were said, rings exchanged. It was as though I was watching a fast-forwarded film. Edward kissed Bella, and everyone swarmed around the newlyweds. Unnoticed, I walked at an annoyingly slow pace to congratulate them.

Emmett matched my stride. He hugged them both at once, clapping Edward on the back and spouting more unoriginal innuendos to make Bella blush.

I stepped forward more hesitantly. I hugged Edward first, kissing his cheek. A simple "Congratulations" sufficed, he heard my inner well-wishes. Next came Bella. It was surprisingly easy to hug her and say I wished her happiness. It was true, after all.

I dragged Emmett onto the dance floor once in a while, and he always obliged. In his arms, I could nearly imagine that it was _my_ wedding yet again. It was perfect, the rustle of swirling skirts and rumbling chatter of many voices.

But then the dog, _Jacob_, came, and Edward approached me. "I could go kick him out, if you'd like," I offered sincerely. Edward nearly smiled at my words.

"Thank you, Rosalie, but I couldn't do that to her." He held out his hand cordially. "Would you like to dance?"

Rolling my eyes at the gallantry of his first statement, I stood, my silver dress swishing, and placed my hand in his. "Sure, Edward."

It was slightly awkward for both of us, but neither of us mentioned it. It _was_ nice, in a way. Effortless. Edward and I rarely spent much time alone together. We made occasional, meaningless small talk while dancing, but I knew Edward's mind was elsewhere, listening to Bella's and Jacob's conversation.

The confrontation in the forest was a close call. It would have been a pity to ruin Edward's and Bella's wedding with a silly fight.

The reception, after that, continued as perfectly as Alice and Esme had planned.

The sun disappeared into the horizon, bringing evening, but the glow of the artificial lights still sparkled, shining light into the almost-darkness.

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**Emmett.**

I ended up holding Rosalie in my arms as we danced yet again, which was most definitely my preferrable location for her.

But the party soon drew to a close, and Edward and Bella drove off towards the airport. The boquet was thrown, and Rosalie didn't say a word when she let it fly into Angela's hands. She could have easily reached out and snatched it from the air, but she didn't.

The sense of pride from earlier swelled considerably.

I was pleased to say that there was considerably less rice than we'd had before, after that was over. But it wasn't as if it mattered, as we never had any use for rice without weddings.

Itching to drag Rosalie off to our room, I sighed at the sight of the remaining guests, who had to all say their goodbyes, shaking our hands and praising the simply _wonderful_ wedding.

But finally, they were gone, and Esme permitted us, with a knowing smile, to wait until morning to clear up the mess left behind.

Rosalie was, of course, in front of the mirror of the adjoining bathroom when I entered our room, slipping off the ebony-colored jacket of my tuxedo. She had slid the pins out of her hair, letting it fall, curlier than usual, across her back.

"Did you enjoy yourself?" I asked softly, sitting down on the bed and sliding off my shoes. She began to gently tug a brush through each of her curls. "Yes," Rosalie said absently, her eyes intent upon her image in the glass. "Did you?"

I joined her in the bathroom, leaning idly against the wall as I watched her. "It was all right," I said, before adding teasingly, "I can think of a lot of ways I could enjoy myself more..."

I saw Rosalie roll her eyes in the reflection of the mirror, though her lips curved up into a smile. "I'm sure you could, Emmett."

But she tossed away the brush carelessly, and stepped into my waiting arms.

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**A/N:** Was Rosalie actually...not that jealous? Don't get too excited, though, jealous!Rose will be back in the next chapter, with a good helping of angst as she finds out that Bella's pregnant. Review?


	23. Idiotic Miracles and Incredulous Words

**A/N: **Thanks for reviewing. Starting now, even though there's only seven real chapters left, the annoying (to me, at least) POV tags are changing. A more seamless look, in my opinion. I might change them for all the chapters once this is over. Maybe, if I'm not too lazy.

**Setting:** Forks, during Edward's and Bella's honeymoon.

**Disclaimer:** Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight.

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**To cure jealousy is to see it for what it is, a dissatisfaction with self. ~ **Joan Didion

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**Emmett.**

I drummed my fingers, too gently to cause any damage, against the wooden end table, somehow restless. And bored.

Rosalie's and Alice's chatter, speaking of clothes and fabrics that left me clueless, drifted over through the open doorway. I had absolutely _nothing_ to do. There was no one to tease to the point of insanity, no one to fight.

"When are the newlyweds returning?" I asked the house at large, my irritation seeping into my words.

Alice stepped lightly into the room, probably sensing my restlessness, and sank down gracefully to sit beside me, despite the fact that there was hardly any space left on the couch.

"It's uncertain," she began, "They haven't exactly made a conscious decision to come back."

I grinned. "I wonder why Mom and Dad won't let _us_ go there, eh, Rosalie?" I called. She ignored me, but I would have bet anything that she had rolled her eyes.

Alice stated the obvious. "You'd probably sink the entire island."

My smile grew wider. "Maybe just half."

I reached out to ruffle her dark hair, but she suddenly froze, back straight and unnaturally stiff. "I can't see her," she murmured frantically, the words blending together, almost too fast to understand, as she seized her phone off the coffee table.

"Who?" I asked, as she dialed, though it was obvious what her answer would be. Alice held the phone up to her ear, pressing redial.

"Bella," she whispered.

Jasper's voice was calm, with whatever emotions he felt locked away in his mind. He must have been used to her visions by now. "What did you see, Alice?"

"That's the problem; I can't see her. She just disappeared!" We all heard Edward's voice through the phone, telling us to leave a message after the beep. Alice groaned, and pressed redial yet again.

"So," Rosalie began hesitantly, standing in the doorway, "He killed her? And he's so wracked with guilt again that he's not answering his phone?"

Alice's face was whiter than usual, fear shining out of her dark gold eyes. "No...he couldn't have. I'll kill him myself."

"Or maybe she decided she liked the dog better?" she offerred apathetically, wrinkling her nose. "Since you can't see him, right?" Alice didn't bother to reply.

I threw in my own guesses, though they were partially to break the tension. "An accident, maybe? Aren't there sharks? Cliffs? Lots of water to drown in?"

Again, no one said anything at my tactless suggestions.

Alice's fingers began to shake as she hit redial again and again, almost as if she was angry. Jasper sent out wave after wave of what I assumed was peace and hopefulness, but I barely felt it. Alice's words repeated themselves in my brain. _I'll kill him myself._

But she couldn't be dead, could she? The thought was insane. Edward had resisted the scent of her blood for this long, so why now?

Everyone looked up at the sound of breathing _through the speaker_. "Hi, Alice."

Bella's voice sounded rough, strained, but she was alive. Relief was written all over Alice's face. "Bella? Bella, are you okay?"

"Yeah," Bella said, "Um, is Carlisle there?"

I glanced at Rosalie, puzzled. She shrugged back, equally confused. Alice called for Carlisle, and he was immediately there, reaching for the phone. "Bella, it's Carlisle. What's going on?"

"I-I'm a little worried about Edward...Can vampires go into shock?" Her voice was thin, fragile. I wasn't Carlisle, but I doubted that the answer to her question was "yes."

"Has he been harmed?" Carlisle gripped the phone tighter, his usually calm demeanor fading quickly.

"No, no," Bella said, "Just...taken by surprise." Carlisle spoke the words we were all thinking: "I don't understand."

"I think...well, I think that...maybe...I might be...pregnant." The last word seemed to echo around the whole room. The shock of everyone, though I didn't have Jasper's gift, was palpable. No one moved. Or said anything. Or breathed.

A sudden noise made me, as well as everyone else in the room, look up. The front door had just slammed, hard, but not before I saw Rosalie's familiar yellow curls swish past angrily.

And, of course, I followed her.

* * *

**Rosalie.**

It wasn't fair.

Yes, I had resented Bella in the past. Jealous of her life, her humanity, her possible choices. That envy was bearable. It was almost effortless, really, to ignore it.

But now, this?

Pregnancy. A baby. It was all I'd ever wanted, and now _she_ gets it. She never even _wanted_ a child. And he definitely never wanted a child.

Didn't it matter that _I_ did?

It was supposed to be a miracle, conception. In her case, it was. An unwelcome one. In mine, it would have been an actual miracle.

I stared blankly at the tools laid out on the workbench, tempted to throw something. Preferrably at Edward's car, as childish as it was. I picked up a shiny, silver wrench, tossing it from hand to hand easily. It felt weightless, like nothing was even in my hands.

I raised it, ready to fling the tool at his shiny Volvo.

But I couldn't.

A loud knock sounded at the door. It had to be Emmett. I sighed, unsure if I wanted to talk or not. "Come in," I finally muttered, sitting down and putting the wrench back in its proper place.

My gaze was fixed on the floor as Emmett approached. "Hey," he began slowly, warily. "How are you doing?"

"Absolutely wonderful," I deadpanned, regretting the words as soon as they left my mouth. Emmett didn't say anything. I sneaked a glance at him in the corner of my eye. He was looking away, eyes brooding and cast downwards.

"They're going to try to take it out of her," Emmett finally said, looking up at me.

_"What?"_ I gasped. I hadn't been listening to my family's discussion. He didn't reply. I guessed he wanted to avoid talking about _me_.

"I'm sorry," I said at last, unable to bear the silence between us.

He looked puzzled. "Why?"

"Because I'm useless!" I cried, "You could leave me, Emmett. You could find a human woman to bear your children. Don't worry about me. I would understand if you left."

Then his lips were on mine, rough and achingly fierce. "Do you not know me at all, Rosalie?" he asked incredulously.

"What?" I struggled for breath. Emmett rolled his eyes. "I love _you_. I'm not going anywhere. Hell, Rose, I told you this seventy years ago, and I'm saying it again. I don't want children. I don't want an ordinary human woman. How could I, when I have you?"

I opened my mouth, not exactly sure what I was going to say. But he kissed me again before I had a chance to speak. I felt the wall press, soft as satin, into my back.

"Emmett," I protested half-heartedly, as he moved his lips to my neck, "I don't think..."

And my phone rang, shrill in the almost silent air.

Emmett groaned, but he released me. "I swear, if that's Alice..." He shook his head, the threat left unsaid. I smiled, but it faded as soon as I read the screen of my phone. What would Edward want with _me_?

"Hello?" I asked, only slightly hesitantly.

"Rosalie," Bella answered frantically, her words whispered. Secret. "It's Bella. Please. You have to help me."

She wanted _my_ help? I thought of the possibilities. _The baby._ Emmett was staring at me warningly, but I ignored him. "How?"

"It's Edward," she whispered, breathing loud in the speaker, "He says he's going to take our baby out. _Kill_ him."

I took a deep breath. And made my decision thoughtlessly. "I'll help. He won't go against me, if Emmett's on my side. Maybe the others, too." _You're selfish_, one part of me whispered, _There's a good chance she could die, and you _want_ that to happen!_

It was the truth. The truth that I wished was not true. A lie. But it wasn't.

Her voice was relieved. "Thank you, Rosalie. You would have been my first choice for godmother, you know." I laughed, but it was tinged with guilt. "Thank you, Bella."

Emmett stared at me as I hung up. "Rosalie..."

"I know what I'm doing, Emmett," I cut him off. "It's the right thing to do." Emmett squeezed my hand comfortingly. "If you're sure about this, then I'll be on your side. You know that, right?"

I reached up and pressed my lips to his cheek. "I've said this before, Em. I don't deserve you."

He rolled his eyes. "Well, you might not deserve me, but you're stuck with me. Forever." I half-smiled. "You say that like it's a bad thing."

Emmett grinned back teasingly. "Is it?" I shook my head. "Definitely not."

And this, unlike so many things I had uttered in my life, both human and vampire, was the truth.

* * *

**A/N:** Next chapter is Renesmee's birth. Reviews, comments, and CC are all appreciated. Thanks.


	24. Spilled Blood and A Pretty Baby

**A/N:** Sorry about the random spurt of updates, but I'm really anxious to finish this and have the rest of the summer free to work on other projects. I'm thinking I'll post a new chapter at least two times a week, to even things out.

**Setting: **Forks. Renesmee's birth in _Breaking Dawn_.

**Warning:** As the chapter title suggests, (graphic?) mentions of blood. Though I don't know why you'd read a book about vampires if you can't handle reading about it.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Twilight.

* * *

**Rosalie.**

"So," Bella asked Jacob, working unnecessarily hard to be nonchalant, "How was your day?"

"Great. Went for a drive. Hung out in the park," the dog answered, disguising the pain in his voice surprisingly well.

"Sounds nice," she replied absentmindedly.

"Sure, sure."

I pitied him. Couldn't she tell how much it hurt him to be here, how much effort it took to act calm? Even if she did, she never let him walk away from her, and it was obviously killing him.

"Rose?" Bella asked, sitting up. I laughed, despite myself. "Again?" It amazed (and slightly disgusted) me how often a bathroom was needed for humans. It had been seventy years since I'd needed to use one, and I was glad.

"I think I've drunk two gallons in the last hour," Bella explained, grimacing. I reached out to lift her off the couch, but Bella shook her head. "Can I walk? My legs are so stiff."

I glanced uneasily as Edward. He shared my look of concern. "Are you sure?"

Bella nodded, almost confidently. "Rose'll catch me if I trip over my feet. Which could happen pretty easily, since I can't see them."

I set her carefully on her feet, ready to catch her if she fell. She stretched, wincing as I heard the joints in her shoulders pop. "That feels good," she said, though I wasn't sure if she was speaking to all of us or none of us. "Ugh, but I'm huge."

It was true. It was almost like she was carrying twins. Or even more than two. Bella patted her bloated stomach. "One more day," she said, her voice nearly cheerful.

I glanced at Jacob involuntarily. He looked as if he were in pain, as if her words had been a literal knife to the heart. Pity surged up in me again, but I didn't speak.

Bella seemed to not have noticed. "All right, then. Whoops-oh, no!"

The cup full of blood that Bella had been drinking spilled onto the white couch, the crimson liquid forever staining the pale fabric. I winced, reaching for the emptied cup. Edward's hand grabbed it first, setting it upright. But Bella must have reached for it, too, because at that moment a frighteningly loud ripping sound emanated from her stomach.

"Oh!" she gasped, and, as if it were in slow motion or the world had tilted, she went limp, falling. My body reacted instinctively, catching her before she reached the ground.

Edward had gotten there, too, holding her underneath my arms. "Bella?"

She screamed, the sound so horrifyingly grotesque it would have raised goosebumps on my skin had I been human. Her eyes rolled back into her head, and I heard a rush of liquid surging in her stomach. Her body arched, and for a second, I almost dropped her.

Bright red blood spurted from her mouth, a hemophiliac's worst nightmare. And as sick as it was, the vomited blood smelled...good to me.

_Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God. _For a terrifyingly long moment, I was frozen, mind completely blank. Carlisle was supposed to be here when this happened.

But something jerked me back to reality: Bella's body, twitching in my arms. I shouted words that were incomprehensible to my mind, the words rushing together and forming a mass of nonsense.

I moved before I had time to think, up the staircase and to the library.

"Morphine!" Edward shouted at me, the panic wild in his eyes.

"Alice, get Carlisle of the phone!" I screamed, placing Bella's limp body on the table and ripping off her clothes that were soaked scarlet. Edward had found the morphine, and plunged the needle into her unmoving arm.

"What's _happening_, Edward?" I asked desperately. Why did Carlisle have to be gone now, of all times?

"He's suffocating!" he replied, eyes unfocused and pained as he shared the baby's pain through his mind.

I had studied the science of conception and birth enough to know what was happening now. "The placenta must have detached!" I said, searching for a scalpel. The dog was standing uselessly next to me, eyes fixed on Bella's still face.

But Bella's eyes opened suddenly, miraculously. "Get him OUT!" she screamed. "He can't BREATHE! Do it NOW!" The blood vessels in her eyes broke as she shrieked.

Alice's footsteps came closer. She clipped an earpiece onto my ear, and suddenly Carlisle's voice was there, calm and collected. "What's happening, Rose?"

"We've moved Bella upstairs. When will you be home?" I answered.

"Too late, I'm afraid. But we're on our way back. Have you given Bella morphine?" he asked, his voice surprisingly urgent.

"Yes," I responded frantically. "She's unconscious, and her spine is broken. Will the baby live?"

"There's a chance," he said. "The child will rip its way out of her, but you must cut through her own skin yourself. With the morphine, it will be painless. Edward will need to inject Bella with his venom so she can be saved in time. But, Rosalie, it...might not work..." He took a deep breath. "There's a good chance both her and the child will die."

_No._ That would never happen. I wouldn't let it. I had already found the shiny scalpel, and I clutched it in my fingers, raising it over her huge stomach.

"Let the morphine spread!" Edward yelled at me. His eyes were wild, panicked. I heard the baby's fluttering heart falter for what seemed like forever, but in truth had to only have been a few seconds.

"There's no time!" I screamed back. "He's dying!"

Without waiting for his response I brought the scalpel down, slicing into her stomach. Carlisle's voice sounded in my ear. "Once you cut Bella's skin, you'll have to use your teeth to break open the amniotic sac."

Thick blood immediately leaked from the incision, staining my fingers, while the smell wafted its way up to my nose.

I cursed mentally, and Carlisle's instructions faded to the background. How long had it been since I hunted? The smell was intoxicating, still steadily flowing out of the wound I'd made on her stomach. I was already weak, too weak to resist. And now I was nothing more than a vampire.

My lips involuntarily curled backwards over my teeth.

"No, Rose!" Edward's voice.

And then my nose was filled with the unappealing scent of Eau de Wet Dog. It grew stronger as I looked down to see blood spilling from the scalpel embedded in his arm. His hand slammed into my face, restricting my airways.

Then shame filled me, horrible mortification for what I could have done. I could have ruined it all.

I didn't feel anything but chagrin as I let Jacob forced me out the door, then Alice's fingers replaced his scorching hands at my throat. "Alice, get her out of here!" I dimly heard Edward shout. I still remembered the sweet smell of her blood. "Take her to Jasper and _keep_ her there!"

Alice lifted me easily, carrying me as one might carry a child into her and Jasper's room. I closed my eyes as she set me down upon their bed and felt Jasper's hand on my forehead. I welcomed the serenity that it brought.

A wet washcloth wiped the blood from my hands. "Thank you, Alice," I murmured, feeling like a child as I curled up on the soft blankets.

But I could still hear the chaos that was happening only a few rooms away. Edward's whisper was loud in my ears. "Renesmee." A baby. A girl.

"Take the baby." Edward's voice was urgent.

I sat up suddenly. "Throw it out the window," was Jacob's reply.

Before I could comprehend what I was doing, my feet had already brought me to the doorway of the library. The pools of blood on the ground looked out of place among the shelves of books. I held my breath, just in case.

"Give her to me," I suggested. Both Edward and Jacob growled at me sharply. "I've got it under control," I promised, "Give me the baby, Edward. I'll take care of her until Bella..."

I trailed off. Edward was suddenly in front of me, placing the small bundle in my waiting arms. I hadn't expected him to agree so easily.

She seemed so fragile in my arms. _Renesmee._

Her skin was a creamy white, a faint blush coloring her round cheeks. Curly tufts of Edward's redish-brown hair stuck up from her head, while Bella's brown eyes stared up at me curiously. Renesmee smiled, revealing two rows of perfect teeth. I hesitantly touched her face with a shaking finger. It was warm, not uncomfortably so like a werewolf, but pleasant.

Her fingers reached up to touch my face. With a jolt, I saw myself looking down on Bella, grotesquely covered in her own blood. But the feeling that accompanied this was...happiness?

And then the image faded as her hand left my face.

It must be her gift, I realized in wonder. She could show her memories to other people by touching them. I smiled slowly at Renesmee, my lips pressing gently against her forehead.

Her tiny hand touched my face again, showing me an image of myself from her point of view. I felt the childlike inquistive nature of her memory.

"I'm your aunt," I told her, rocking her gently back and forth in my arms, "Rosalie."

I wished, fervently, that I could tell her I was her mother. I'd never hold my own newborn child in my hands like this, for it was a child that was impossible to conceive with Emmett.

But, nevertheless, I cooed softly at the beautiful baby that wasn't mine.

And pretended she was.

* * *

**A/N:** Please review. Coming up next...Emmett meets his niece, and shares some delightful innuendos with Jacob about imprinting on a baby.


	25. Animosity, Angels, and Aspirations

**A/N:** It's getting towards the end, guys. Only two more real chapters, plus four (possibly three) outtakes. Like always, thanks to the lovely people who've reviewed.

If any of you, my readers, have read _Artemis Fowl_, I'd appreciate if you'd also read and review my new drabble, **It's A Shame**.

**Setting: **Right after Renesmee's birth in _Breaking Dawn_.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Twilight.

* * *

**Rosalie.**

Renesmee's tiny, pink fingers reached for the bottle. She was cradled in my other arm, her head carefully supported. I lowered the bottle to her lips, holding my breath. It wouldn't be good if I were to grab the cup away from her hands.

Another baby bottle was sitting, untouched, off to the side. It seemed as though she didn't care much for baby formula.

It was emptied quickly. Her warm fingers found my skin, showing me an image of blood. _I'm thirsty_, she seemed to say. I jerked away from her touch, remembering all to clearly of the scene that had happened earlier.

"Soon," I murmured, lifting her and nuzzling her oddly soft cheek with my nose.

A loud gasp brought me to my feet. I turned, pulling Renesmee protectively against my chest.

Jacob stood a few feet behind the sofa, his eyes glued to the baby in my arms. His clenched fists slowly loosened.

"What do you want?" I hissed, backing away. Renesmee stared inquisitively at him. She touched my face again, showing me an image of Jacob. The picture was tinged with strange protectiveness. For once, I ignored her. He still hadn't answered my question, reaching out as if to tear the baby from my arms.

I recoiled. "Don't touch her, dog."

He glanced at me for the first time, but his eyes immediately swiveled back to stare at Renesmee. "Can I, uh, hold her?"

_"What?"_ I nearly shouted. But the way he was looking at her made me remember. Werewolves. Imprinting. "Oh, _no_. Please, please, please tell me you didn't imprint on the baby."

Alice and Jasper, I hadn't noticed earlier, were standing off to the side, eyebrows raised.

"You know I hate to disappoint you, Blondie, but that would be lying." Jacob smiled almost sarcastically. "Anyway, you look like you're going to rip her bottle out of her hands and chug it down yourself."

I knew he was right, but that didn't make me any more inclined to let him have her. "I'm perfectly fine, Jacob," I answered, making an effort to be cordial, "However, I can't say the same for you when Edward and Bella find out you've imprinted on their _child_."

Jacob grinned arrogantly. "We'll see."

I walked into the barely-used kitchen, picked up the discarded bottle of blood, unscrewing the lid and refilling the container. The sweet aroma was almost taunting, but I held my breath, glaring pointedly at Jacob.

He raised his eyebrows. I jammed the lid back on. Renesmee touched my face. And the picture she showed me was, _of course_, Jacob. I groaned, wondering how strong this imprint thing was.

"Looks like today's your lucky day, dog," I said scathingly. Jacob frowned. "What?"

I made sure the lid was screwed on tightly before I tossed him the metal baby bottle. "She wants you."

He smiled infuriatingly, plucking the bottle easily from the air. He held out him hands, then redrew them suddenly. "Wait, how did you know?"

"How did I know what?" I was stalling, and he knew it. Jacob glared at me impatiently. "How did you know she wanted me?"

Renesmee smiled, her pearly-white teeth seeming to shine. "She has a gift," I answered cryptically, "Like her father."

He looked even more puzzled, staring hesitantly at the baby. "She can read minds?" I shook my head, amused by his wariness. "She'll show you." I carefully placed the baby in his arms, struggling not to cringe away from the heat.

Jacob held her cautiously in his arms, growing more relaxed with every second. Renesmee smiled happily, reaching up to touch his face.

A sudden burst of envy overwhelmed me, envy for the man standing in front of me. This baby belonged, in a forced, unnatural way, to him. But a strong bond already existed between them. But I had no _real_ connection with her.

Nothing that made her mine. Because, after all, she wasn't.

* * *

**Emmett.**

"Can't you drive any faster, Carlisle?" I complained. "I could run faster than this car goes."

Carlisle smiled patiently, if a little patronizingly. "You're welcome to run if you'd prefer that, Emmett." I didn't answer, concentrating on counting every single tree that passed by.

There were quite a lot of trees.

Finally, we pulled into the driveway when I'd counted five hundred and ninety-six. I had heard Bella's heart racing from miles away, and Jacob's, though it was strange that he was still here.

But now I barely caught the sound of another, fluttering heartbeat. The baby.

I gulped, oddly nervous. I let everyone file inside the house before me. But at last I entered, anticipation curling my stomach. I smelled the blood right away, and I was immediately glad that we'd had time to go hunting before Alice had called.

"Imprinted?" The whispered word was incredulous. Jacob had imprinted. On...Renesmee?

What the _hell_? I burst out laughing.

The others didn't seem to find the situation as amusing as I did. Carlisle and Esme went to check on how Bella was doing upstairs, while the others were standing around uncomfortably.

Rosalie was smiling as she held the little bundle (I had a hard time thinking of it as an actual _baby_) in her arms. I had rarely seen her this happy before.

"It's my turn," Jacob announced, holding his arms out. She scowled and said, "Her _real_ family first, Jacob."

Then she turned to us. Alice went first, then Jasper, Esme, and Carlisle. Finally she turned to me, black eyes sparkling. "Emmett?"

"Um..." I hesitantly stepped closer to Carlisle, who held out the baby to me. I held her stiffly, idiotically afraid I was going to drop her or something. But the moment passed and I grew more relaxed.

For the first time, I felt like I understood Rosalie's previously-incomprehensible desire for children. She reminded me, suddenly, of a indistinct time when I'd held my baby sister as a human, poking her fat cheeks and trying to make her laugh.

The memory felt as old as a book whose pages were yellowing. When had that happened? Nineteen twenty, nineteen fifteen?

But I shook this aside. This baby I held now was not some piece of the past. She was new.

"Hey, Renesmee," I murmured, bouncing her up and down carefully. "I'm your uncle, Emmett." She smiled, showing angelic dimples that reminded me of my own face.

"I call her Nessie," Jacob interrupted, a weirdly cheerful smile on his face. "It's easier than Renesmee. Nice and short."

I grinned widely. "You'd better hope she doesn't say that to _you_." I couldn't resist. Well, maybe I could have, but I didn't particularly want to.

To his credit, Jacob looked revolted at the very idea. Rosalie, too, looked at me disapprovingly. "She's a _baby_, Em."

I rolled my eyes at their seriousness, but relented.

"Which brings us to a whole other problem," I answered, "Bella's going to kill you when she wakes up. And I mean that literally." Carlisle shook his head.

"She's had plenty of time to prepare herself mentally. It's likely that she'll be more controlled than usual newborns," he disagreed.

I considered this, shrugging. "Want to bet, Dad?" I offered.

Carlisle smiled. "I'll make an exception just this once, Em," he said, chuckling.

Renesmee made an impatient noise. She reached for my face. It was slightly startling at first, having her show me an image in my own mind. But I grew accustomed to the feeling. And the picture, was, unsurprisingly, Jacob.

I laughed, ruffling my niece's short redish-brown curls. "What does she want?" Rosalie asked, though she probably already knew the answer.

"Jacob," I answered unnecessarily. "You like him better than me, don't you?" I whispered to Renesmee, frowning and feigning hurt. She giggled, though I wasn't sure if she understood my words or if it was just my surely goofy expression.

I pressed a sloppy, last minute kiss on one of her rosy cheeks, before handing her off into Jacob's waiting arms.

* * *

Rosalie's hair was splayed across the snow-white pillow, a burst of color. My new niece was not the only angel I knew.

And I couldn't help but wonder. Would our child, if it were possible, have blonde hair? Violet eyes, like Rosalie's had been when she was human?

Or dark hair and eyes, like me? A mixture of both?

I stared out the window up at the sky, pulling her closer. She snuggled into my arms, eyelids fluttering shut as though she was trying to sleep. I sighed, the sound coming across more troubled than I'd meant it to.

"What's wrong, Emmett?" Rosalie asked, her voice surprisingly peaceful. My voice was blank when I replied, "It's nothing." A lie, but I didn't know if I wanted to tell her or not.

She opened her eyes, revealing irises as honey-colored as her hair, and turned to face me. "Nothing is ever nothing, Em."

"It's just...," I began, unsure what to say. "I finally realized, today, what you mean when you always say you want a child. I'd never really _understood_ before."

Rosalie was silent, mulling over my words. "Because of Renesmee?"

I took this as a rhetorical question, and we were both quiet for a moment. I hesitated before speaking again, uncharacteristically insecure again. "If I were to make love with a human woman, if I _could_ without killing her, purely for you, to have _our_ child...would you want that?"

"It would be incredibly unfair for the woman, but maybe," she said softly, after a while, "But it wouldn't really be _ours_, would it?"

"That's a matter of perspective," I argued lightly. Rosalie laughed, the sound lightening the almost tense air between us. She sighed and rested her head gently against my chest, where my heart lay, dead and unbeating for the rest of forever.

"Maybe someday, Emmett."


	26. Impossible Survival and Sweet Dreams

**A/N:** So, this is the penultimate chapter. Or technically the last chapter, since the next is more of an epilogue. I'm getting metaphorical tears in my eyes...

**Setting: **The confrontation with the Volturi in _Breaking Dawn_.

**Disclaimer:** Don't own Twilight or _All the Right Moves_ by One Republic.

**

* * *

**

**They've got all the right friends in all the right places,**

**So, yeah, we're going down.**

**They'll be the king of hearts, a****nd you're the queen of spades**

**Then we'll fight for you l****ike we were your soldiers.**

* * *

**Emmett.**

"Brothers," Aro said formally, "There is much to consider here."

"Let us counsel," Caius suggested impatiently. Marcus voiced his agreement, too, though it sounded like he was bored. They formed a triangle, black cloaks dark against the snow.

I glanced beside me at Rosalie. She was staring off blankly at the trio, listening not to them, I knew, but to Edward, Jacob, Bella, and Renesmee.

Bella was whispering in Jacob's ear, but we could all hear the words she said. "Wait until they're totally distracted, then run with her. Get as far from this place as you possibly can. When you've gone as far as you can on foot, she has what you need to get you in the air."

Rosalie buried her face in my neck. I stroked her back, unable to provide any more real comfort than that.

Would this be the last time I saw my niece? If it was, I would make sure it wasn't Rosalie's last time she would ever see her. It was all I could do. I supposed we should go say goodbye, but she didn't move, and their agonized whispers felt too heartfelt and personal to intrude upon.

"You're the only one we could ever trust her with," Bella said, her voice low, "If you didn't love her so much, I could never bear this. I know you can protect her, Jake."

Caius was arguing with Aro, their whispers loud compared to the ones being said on our side of the clearing. "The fact remains that her lifespan is entirely unpredictable, as you know—"

There was a pained whine coming from what I knew must be Jacob, covering Aro's response. "I know," Bella whispered to him, almost consolingly, "I love you, too, Jake. You'll always be my best man."

"Goodbye, Jacob," Edward murmured, his voice containing none of the animosity it would have held only months ago, "My brother...my son."

The silence seemed to drag on, heavier than usual. "Is there no hope, then?" Carlisle's whisper was only determined.

"There is absolutely hope," Bella said back, her tone matching his, "I only know my own fate."

Rosalie looked up at me, her breath sweet against the skin of my throat. "I love you, Em. You know that, right?"

I scowled at her tone. "Don't say that like you're saying goodbye." I crushed my lips fiercely against hers, the action saying more than I could ever express otherwise. Her hands cupped my face, her fingers warm against my skin.

I pulled away after a moment I knew was too short for both of our liking. But if I had kissed her any longer, I wouldn't have been able to stop.

"I love you so much." Her voice shook as she repeated the words, hands clutching desperately to me. I wanted nothing more than to grab her and run, run until we were far away and safe from everything else.

But I couldn't. Unlike Alice and Jasper, I would not leave our family to die. And I did the only thing I could do, which was to repeat her words back.

_I love you. You know that, right? I love you so much, Rosalie._

"You're not going to die," I whispered. She only smiled sadly as her fingers entwined themselves with mine. I squeezed her fingers too hard, but she didn't complain.

"Get ready," Bella whispered to everyone, almost as if she was saying _get ready to die_."It's starting."

* * *

The remaining members of the Volturi quickly disappeared into the trees. All of us remained tense, wary of another trick, like Irina's death had been.

"Is it really over?" I heard Bella ask Edward, her voice quiet.

I knew the answer by looking at his face. It seemed as though he was smiling wider than he ever had before. "Yes. They've given up. Like all bullies, they're cowards underneath the swagger."

He laughed. Alice, who I couldn't quite believe was back, grinned. "Seriously, people. They're not coming back. Everbody can relax now."

There was a moment of shocked silence as this slowly sank in.

"Of all the rotten luck," Stefan muttered morosely, breaking the startled quiet.

And then it suddenly wasn't as silent, as what seemed like every single werewolf (or "shapeshifter") howled in unison. The noise was deafening, paired with the elated cries of everyone else.

I let out my own whoop, punching my fist into the wintry air as the loud yell echoed off the snow-capped mountains, nearly indistinguinshable with everyone else's. And as much as I was glad we were alive, it was a shame no one ever got to tear apart and burn at least _someone_.

Well, besides Irina.

"Oh, Emmett." Rosalie rolled her eyes, as if she knew what I was thinking. "You _wanted_ to fight, didn't you?"

I grinned in response, not having to answer. No one would ever know me better than she did, and that was just the way I liked it.

I looked around, overwhelmed by the sheer amount of elation and affection. I could nearly feel it in the air, and I didn't even have Jasper's gift. He was probably bursting with the happiness of everyone else right now.

"C'mere." I tugged on Rosalie's hand, reeling her closer. And I held her tighter than I possibly ever had before. Well, _maybe_. It certainly felt like it.

There would be time, later, to smother Alice and Jasper to death in a hug. To thank the vampires and half-vampire that had saved us. To kiss Tanya's and Kate's cheeks and grieve with them. And to hug Renesmee, too. But now, all I could focus on was the fact we had survived. That we _were _surviving.

Rosalie's fingers twined into my hair, pulling my head down to meet hers. It was fiercer, with an edge of triumph that had been lacking before.

_Alive._ We were alive. That simple fact made the taste of her kiss so much sweeter.

* * *

**Rosalie.**

Emmett was grinning that huge, infectious smile of his. Idiotic, I'd admit, but adorably so. He hadn't stopped smiling yet.

Bella and Edward got up to go to their cottage, Renesmee with them. And I was relieved that what used to be an overwhelming amount of envy had shrunk considerably.

Nevertheless, I kissed her forehead and hugged both Bella and Edward as I wished them good night. This whole ordeal had given me a slightly different perspective on how much I truly valued my family.

Edward, no doubt fishing around inside my head, grinned at me as he left.

I rolled my eyes, more for old times' sake than anything else, as I tossed him a slight smile in return.

Hmm. Maybe _that_ relationship would improve in time. I sort of doubted it.

I glanced around the room at everyone. Esme was half scolding, half teasing Alice and Jasper about their scheme that had, in the end, saved us all. Carlisle was striking up yet another conversation with Nahuel and Huilen.

And Emmett was watching me silently, his huge frame leaning against the wall.

As always, a smile graced his lips, lighting up his face. He was born to smile, I thought. He wouldn't look the same without it.

I patted the couch cushion next to me. And he, instead of sitting on the sofa like someone would normally, jumped easily, yet unnecessarily, over the tall back and settled down next to me.

I raised my eyebrows, but didn't comment.

"Love you," Emmett murmured quietly, a mocking edge to his voice as he spoke again. "You know that, right?"

I recognized my own words from earlier, but I couldn't quite find it in myself to be patronizing, only mildy irritated. "Don't mock me, Em."

"Sure, Rose," he chuckled. We lapsed in a comfortable silence, the cheerful conversation of everyone else continuing around us uninterrupted.

I laid my head against his shoulder, closing my eyes. I could almost imagine myself falling asleep. And I found myself, not for the first time, wanting to dream. The concept seemed so strange now. I wondered what I would see, if it were possible.

Of course, it wasn't exactly a perfect moment. Although Emmett claimed otherwise, I was not perfect. And neither was he. But, in the end, we didn't need to be absolutely faultless to love each other. Or to at least be content.

Although, we did have quite a long time in front of us to search for perfection. But, I thought, maybe we didn't need it.

Emmet's lips pressed ever so gently to the top of my head. "Sweet dreams, Rosie," he teased softly.

* * *

**A/N:** This is the technical end, because, like I mentioned in the top A/N, the next chapter is a sort of epilogue. And then we'll be on to the outtakes. Reviews are loved.


	27. Forever Is A Long Time, After All

**A/N: **The epilogue. Probably the hardest chapter to get right. But it's not as suckish as the Harry Potter one, I promise. And, of course, a warning for sexual references at the end.

**Setting:** Five years after the end of _Breaking Dawn_.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Twilight.

* * *

**If you want a happy ending, that depends, of course, on where you stop your story.** ~Orson Welles

**

* * *

**

**Rosalie.**

I unzipped the garment bag with the utmost care. On the hanger was my first ever wedding dress, the once creamy-white silk yellowed with age.

The threading of the countless embroidered roses, too, was yellowing.

I swallowed, stroking the soft fabric and running my fingers over the dress I'd worn eighty years ago. The details were as crystal-clear as ever, of course.

"We could always have it remade," Esme told me gently. "I would look exactly the same as it did in 1936."

The fourteen other dresses hanging on the rack were nothing compared to this one, in terms of sentimental value. They might have been more expensive, more intricate, more tedious to make.

But still, nothing. Despite this, I shook my head at Esme's question. I didn't want to relive the past.

I would have another new dress for this wedding. Of course, it would never rival my first. Even though it would cost more money, be more in line with recent fashion trends, and look more beautiful than anything I'd ever seen, it wouldn't even come close.

Emmett had constantly asked me why I still had each dress gathering dust in the back of our closet. I wasn't _exactly_ sure why I had kept them. I would probably never wear the same one again. A smile crossed my face as I thought of how many dresses I'd have in fifty years, a hundred years.

It was a pleasing thought.

But while sentimentality was useless, in some ways, in others, it was something I treasured.

As carefully as ever, I slid the fastenings of the garment bag closed.

I turned to face Esme and Alice, brushing the hair out of my eyes. "It'll be white, of course..."

* * *

_One month later._

**

* * *

**

Emmett.

I squinted through the crack in the door for about two seconds before it was quickly slammed in my face.

I hadn't really been able to see anything, either. A table full of unrecognizable make-up products, someone's skirt, a flash of a long white dress that must have been Rosalie's.

Damn this stupid rule of not seeing the bride until the wedding.

"Can't you wait _five_ more minutes, Em?" Alice called, irritated.

"Fine, fine," I sighed. I went through this seemingly endless time of waiting before every single wedding Rosalie and I had ever had. This would be our sixteenth in eighty years. And I only knew that because Rosalie would undoubtedly kill me if I hadn't known the exact number.

She was sort of obsessive about things like that, though I didn't paricularly mind.

Somewhere downstairs, Carlisle chuckled. A wine glass clinked against another, dresses rustled quietly, soft music emitted from the grand piano.

The cheerful chatter of arriving guests were like static in my ears, an unfocused lens, a blurry picture. I tapped my foot against the carpeted hallway impatiently, more for the gesture than anything else.

Heavier footsteps than normal to my right caught my attention. Renesmee, only six years old in real years and around fifteen physically, walked over to where I loitered in front of the door.

"You look nice," I commented idly, glancing at the dark red dress she wore. "Jacob will like it," I added, winking.

"Do you really think so?" Her cheeks reddened, and she looked away. She was almost as prone to blushing as Bella had been. There was a hopefulness in her voice that was sort of endearing.

I rolled my eyes at her uncertainty. "Of course he will." Her fingers touched my arm lightly, showing me her gratitude through pictures.

"No problem," I answered, tousling her shiny bronze curls. She pulled away, scowling. "I'm not a child, Em."

I chuckled at her stubborness. "You're six, Nessie. You'd be in kindergarten if you were human. I think that constitutes being a kid, wouldn't you agree?" Renesmee glared at me, but she looked only half irritated. Though I wasn't quite sure what exactly the other half was.

I was suddenly hit with inspiration. Since Renesmee could show me pictures, she'd be able to go into the room and show me an image of Rosalie. That idiotic rule was meant to torture the groom, I was absolutely sure. "Hey, do you think you could—"

She cut me off, with a light smile. "Sorry, no can do."

"How did you know what I was going to say?" I asked, letting out a resigned sigh.

"That was completely predictable, Em." Renesmee patted my arm. I stared at her blankly. Predictable? But I didn't feel like arguing, especially not today.

"It's time." I heard Esme's voice clearly through the closed door. I straightened up, hastily running my fingers through my hair.

Renesmee momentarily forgot her previous annoyance and carefully smoothed down my tuxedo for me. "Good luck, Emmett."

I laughed, kissing the top of her head briefly. "Thanks, kid, but I don't need luck." And her exasperated comments about how she was certainly not a child anymore were all but unheard by my ears as I tried not to run through the hallways of the church too quickly.

This might have been our sixteenth wedding, but that didn't make me any less eager for it to begin.

I took my customary place to the right of the minister, already smiling.

* * *

**Rosalie.**

I took a last minute glance at the mirror, making sure everything still looked perfect. I knew it would, but that didn't stop me from checking to be a hundred percent sure.

My curls were pulled to one side, tresses tied together with a simple gold clasp. Dark red lipstick, blush in the palest pink, and thin, yet slightly dramatic rings of black around my eyes, making them look an even brighter gold.

Of course, it was perfect. Or pretty close to that.

I linked my arm through Carlisle's waiting one, a familiar motion. He smiled. "Sixteenth's time's the charm, Rose."

I laughed as he led me out the door and outside. The aisle seemed too short this time, and the soft music too fast, or maybe I was just more impatient than normal.

But this was the part I loved about our weddings. The admiring sighs, the gasps, and the look on their faces as everyone saw me. Most importantly, Emmett. His face was always the same, gold eyes, wide smile, slightly awed. Or more than _slightly. _

And then the vows were next. Where I could say the timeless words I'd already spoken fifteen times, and mean them with my whole self.

"Rosalie Lillian Hale, do you take Emmett Dale Cullen to be your lawfully wedded husband, for richer and for poorer, in sickness and in health?"

"I do." The words were so simple, effortless, with no hesitation anymore.

"Emmett Dale Cullen, do you take Rosalie Lillian Hale to be your lawfully wedded wife, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health?" the minister asked.

He was, of course, smiling. "I do," he answered.

The rings were exchanged, a gold band joining the one with diamonds on my finger.

Emmett didn't wait for the minister's next words. He held my face delicately in his hands, bending down to press his lips to mine fiercely. Everyone clapped and cheered.

And I smiled against his lips.

* * *

An almost warm mist sprayed my skin as we sailed out into the ocean. I could already see the little island in the distance, growing larger with ever passing second.

In what seemed like no time at all, we reached the shore.

With a laugh, Emmett tackled me, sending us both overboard. The water was warm and soothing against my skin. My feet sank easily into the wet sand as I stepped out of the water, my soaked curls hanging across my back.

Emmett threw his shirt to the ground, shaking the water out of his hair like a dog. I grinned.

I tossed my shoes aside. The white grains of sand were like silk against my bare feet, but then, nearly everything felt soft to me.

Emmett carried all the luggage easily, and I followed him into the house, the hem of my dress dripping with saltwater. Within seconds, the luggage was discarded somewhere I couldn't really care less about, and he pulled me into his arms at once.

"Impatient, are we?" I asked, sliding the clips off my hair.

"Well, this house is rather large," he said, lips against my ear, "We might not have enough time to smash it all, you know?" A corner of his lips raised in a smile.

We hadn't bothered with any of the lights, and the lack of light, both artificial and natural, made it seem like an old black and white movie. A movie as old as we ourselves were. His hair was black as ink, skin as white as a clean sheet of paper.

Several yards away from the house, I heard waves crashing to shore, the sound strangely calming.

I raised my eyebrows. "We're just lucky Esme wanted to remodel this place, Em."

"It _is_ a good deal, huh?" He was full-on grinning now, obviously not needing me to answer. I stood on tiptoe to kiss him, unable to keep a smile off my face. His hand circled my waist, his light gold eyes sparkling with humor and more than a little lust.

He pulled us onto the wide bed with a single, swift movement.

"I wish we could stay here forever," he murmured, moving his lips to the edge of my jaw as he toyed with the zipper of my dress. It was honestly hard to concentrate on his words, but I laughed breathlessly, the sound seeming to brighten the darkened room. "It's like paradise."

"Better," Emmett insisted, lips soft against my throat. The zipper moved down agonizingly slowly, only a fraction of an inch.

"Well, forever is a long time." A mixture of desire and euporia filled me; I wasn't sure if the words were even coherent to his ears. But it wasn't as if it mattered.

"I don't think you would mind," he whispered amusedly, breathing as ragged as mine.

My fingers tugged his still-wet hair, pulling his mouth back up to mine. And then there was no longer a need for words. Fairytales aside, this was pretty close to a happily-ever-after, even if it wouldn't exactly be the end of our story together. Far from it, actually.

After all, forever _is_ a long time.

**

* * *

**

The End. **THE END.** the end. _Fin._

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**A/N:** Thank you so, so much for reading this story. Six days ago, the fourteenth of June, marked exactly eight months since this started, which is more time than even I had imagined this would take to write. I'm honored that you've read this and stuck with me (and Rosalie and Emmett) for so long. I hope this was as enjoyable for you as it was for me.

Keep on reading! The outtakes will be next.

Love, **koalakoala9836**

P.S. Review?


	28. Outtake I

**A/N:** I'm sorry this is so late. Family vacations and the like, with no Internet access. And writer's block, or maybe it was just the boring idea. But enough of my excuses.

If you've noticed, I deleted A Piece of my Happily Ever After. It, to be frank, was shitty. Cliché and childishly written, too, and I'm not planning to rewrite it. More on that later...

**Setting:** Between chapters six and seven. Forks, WA, in the late 1930s.

**Disclaimer:** Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight.

* * *

**Emmett.**

Rosalie was arguing with Edward. _Again._ It was over something trivial, of course. It always was. Why couldn't they just get along? It would make everything so much easier.

The forest was still unfamiliar to my eyes. It would take some time to get used to, all the different scenery every five or so years. I hoped there were a few grizzly bears that were up to a challenge today. It was so much more entertaining when they fought back, or at least tried to.

"Why does it even matter?" Edward's voice drifted over from a few miles away, clearly irritated. "I was simply trying to help. Of course, you believe everyone's out to get you, don't you, Rose?"

Her answering growl was cut off by Carlisle's voice, always the pacifist. "Settle down, children."

Rosalie sighed. "Sure, Carlisle," they chorused together, sounding not at all apologetic. It was probably the only time they'd ever agree with each other, even if it was an act.

She backtracked easily to where I lingered behind the others, scanning the moss-covered trees and committing them to memory. Linking her arm through mine, she pulled me west, away from where the rest of our family was headed.

I heard the noisy sound of rushing waves from the nearby Pacific Ocean. A smile spread easily and quickly across my lips as I quickened our pace eagerly.

"At least ten miles away," Edward reminded us, a sour edge to his voice. Esme and Carlisle chuckled harmoniously as they started in the opposite direction with Edward following.

I attacked a few nearby elk, rushing through it impatiently and staining my clothes a lot more than usual. Rosalie arched her eyebrows at the mess I'd made. I smiled sheepishly. "Hey, one more reason for me to take them off, right?"

She, surprisingly, laughed. "Sure, Em."

I tugged her closer, toying with the copper-colored buttons that went down the front of her shirt.

"Wait," Rosalie protested, grinning. Her voice changed into a rather good impression of Edward's. "Are we _exactly_ ten mi—?" I effectively cut her off with a kiss. She apparently didn't care about her mocking of our brother enough to finish her sentence.

"Em, wait," she gasped against my mouth, releasing her fingers from my hair. I reluctantly moved my lips down to the edge of her jaw.

"Please don't tell me this is another Edward imitation," I groaned, sliding one sleeve down to the crease of her elbow.

Rosalie ignored me and pulled away a few inches, skillfully redoing the buttons of her shirt. "Can't you hear that?"

I listened intently, but couldn't hear anything except the loud sound of our unsteady breathing and the quieter one of a close by stream. "Hear what?"

A twig snapped awfully close by, as though someone (or something) had stepped on it. I smelled a hint of something like...wet dogs? We froze at once. "It's probably just an animal, Rosalie. Or maybe a hiker," I said, glancing around us at the silent trees.

"Are you sure?" she asked, staring at the surrounding forest apprehensively. "No," I admitted. "But what else could it be?"

That question was soon answered. A huge, unrecognizable animal burst suddenly out of the trees directly at us. I dodged right in time, dragging Rosalie out of the way. She screamed, the high sound echoing in the trees. I hoped someone heard it.

I finally recognized the creature. It was a wolf, but the proportions seemed wrong. Too large to be a normal wolf. And the smell was completely nauseating. Surely normal-sized wolves smelled better than_ this_.

It snarled viciously, and two more giant wolves appeared on either sides of the leader. I cursed. I might have been able to take out one of them, but not three at the same time.

Edward, if you can hear this, I thought desperately, get the hell over here. And bring Carlisle and Esme.

He heard. They were there at once, all five of us facing the impossibly huge wolves. Carlisle's eyes widened. "They're werewolves. A different kind, but almost similar to the ones I encountered during my stay with the Volturi."

"_Werewolves_?" I repeated incredulously. But the idea wasn't so outrageous. After all, we were vampires. Maybe all ridiculous supernatural creatures existed.

"It's a shame we haven't got any silver bullets," I added, grinning.

Edward interrupted, his words low and fast. "Their minds are connected somehow. It's fascinating. The one in front is the leader, the chief. Apparently they were made to protect the humans in their tribe."

Carlisle nodded and stepped forward, gesturing for us to be quiet. His hands were held up in a peace offering. Esme moved as if to stop him, but relented. The werewolves backed away as he came closer, growling. "My family and I mean you no harm," he began calmly, "Unlike most of our kind, we drink the blood of animals instead of humans, and are able to live almost normal lives. Alongside them, instead of as our prey. We are, of course, willing to do the same for your...pack.

"My son, Edward, has the ability to read minds." The wolves looked to each other uneasily as Edward tossed them a knowing grin, while Carlisle continued with his speech. "He can easily act as a communicator between us with your thoughts and my voice now, if you are unwilling to change into your human forms."

Edward stepped up next to Carlisle, wrinkling his nose at the smell. His voice grew detached, eyes distant. "This is not a preferred method of communication, but we will agree to it. I am Ephraim Black, Quileute chief."

Carlisle smiled. "Carlisle Cullen. My wife, Esme—" He gestured to where she stood beside him. "—and my other children, Emmett and Rosalie."

The wolf snorted. "Children? How is that possible, if, as I understand it, vampires are unable to conceive?" Ephraim, through Edward, asked. Rosalie flinched visibly, her face rigid. I squeezed her hand, but it didn't seem to have any effect.

"I changed them myself. We take on the role of a family rather than a conventional coven, and Esme and myself consider them our children," Carlisle explained.

Edward glanced backwards. Two more wolves, their fur colored two different shades of grey, appeared almost silently behind us. I tensed automatically as the wet dog smell grew stronger, the odor pungent in the air between us and them.

"We are willing to cooperate, as long as there are a few guidelines to be followed by you and your...family," Ephraim said, pronouncing the last word with amusement.

Carlisle took no notice. "Of course. I suggest we devise a treaty to make it more final. What terms do you have in mind?"

"A boundary line," he replied at once. "Equal territory between the two of us, along the line of the reservation. And that you will swear to never feed on the humans in this area."

He listed a few other easy, common-sense rules that we'd never break even if this "treaty" had never exsisted.

"Is that all?" The vampire I thought of as my father raised his eyebrows.

The wolves whined uneasily. Ephraim shook his head back and forth, the motion ruffling his reddish fur. "We only have one more request."

Carlisle spoke the words we were all thinking. "What is it?"

Edward's eyes cleared. "They want our word that we will never change a human, or the treaty will be considered void. Simple."

No one would ever know, then, how _not_ simple this tiny detail would be. But Carlisle spoke again, sealing the deal. "We agree to all the terms." The wolves seemed to relax slightly.

Edward laughed suddenly, a rare grin stretching across his face. We all turned to him questioningly. "They think _we_ should write it down so we won't forget."

I chuckled, and even Rosalie cracked a smile. I'd never thought wolves (or werewolves) could look puzzled, but it was the expression now on most of their faces. Carlisle faced them again.

"That, I'm afraid, will not be necessary," he said.

* * *

**A/N:** Too boring to be a real chapter, huh? Next one will most likely be better, or at least have more Emmett/Rosalie moments.

But please review. I promise the next chapter won't take as long to write as this one did.


	29. Outtake II

**A/N:** Two of four, right on time. Like I promised. You have no idea how heartening it is to look and see that there's a hundred sixty-three reviews. Thank you so much. :)

**Setting:** Between chapters nine and ten, at an unspecified location.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Twilight.

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**Rosalie.**

It started off as a good day, actually. Bright, despite the seamless grey clouds that covered the sunshine.

Emmett rested his head on my shoulder as I drifted easily through Mozart's Symphony No. 41 in C major, my mind elsewhere as my fingers automatically found the right keys.

Carlisle, Esme, and Edward were in the adjoining lounge. They were listening rather inattentively as I played, though I didn't mind. The music was more of a distraction from everything else than something I truly enjoyed doing, or something I wanted other people to praise me for.

Edward was a better musician, anyway.

A cheerful, though unnecessary, fire burned in the grate, and an end of summer breeze outside rustled the leaves—colored varying shades of crimson, gold, and ginger—casting them from their trees to the dry ground.

It was peaceful. And then, of course, Edward had to ruin it.

_"What?" _he exclaimed loudly from the other room, his tone incredulous. "You didn't honestly think that..." He trailed off, seemingly at a loss for words.

Emmett lifted his head and glanced into the other room, and I did the same, all but forgetting the notes I had been mindlessly playing.

Carlisle looked slightly embarrassed. "It was another incentive. Not the strongest one, but still one nevertheless." I shared a confused glance with Emmett, unsure of what they were discussing, and he shrugged back, equally unaware.

I gathered that he had found something strange when he'd been digging around in Carlisle's head. It served him right, in a way.

"It didn't work out quite like I expected," Carlisle continued.

"'Quite like you expected'?" Edward quoted scornfully, "I can't believe that you thought you could just force me into what _you_ wanted for me."

Carlisle looked helplessly at Esme. Emmett took the moment to interrupt. "What's going on here?"

Edward's eyes darted over to where I had joined Emmett in the doorway, then glanced back to Carlisle. I couldn't read his expression. "Shouldn't you tell her?"

Carlisle sighed, running a hand through his hair. "When I saw you...dying...I chose to change you for a multitude of reasons. The one Edward is most concerned about, however...is the fact that I thought that you might be to him what Esme is to me. A partner, in a sense."

Edward punctuated the end of his speech with a mocking laugh.

I felt strange, speechless and hurt and irritated all at the same time. Emmett said something to me, something that must have surely been comforting, but I couldn't hear what it was. I turned to my brother slowly, hesitantly.

"You never even...considered it?" My voice was as fragile and delicate as the dying leaves outside.

He looked pained, as though he didn't want to answer, as if the answer he'd give was not the one I wanted to hear. I both dreaded and yearned his reluctant response.

"No."

"Never?" I repeated faintly. He inclined his head slightly in a nod, and his expression was once again blank.

Outside, the first few drops of rain fell.

* * *

**Emmett.**

I honestly didn't get why it would matter so much. It was understandable, to say the least. I mean, Carlisle had just wanted Edward to be happy.

But then you had to factor in Rosalie. She depended so much on the admiration of others. Craved it, almost. Though _why_ exactly she did I didn't quite understand.

She looked completely crushed at Edward's simple, tactless statement. And then she fled, up the staircase and into what must have been our room, slamming the door behind her.

I sighed, staring up at the plastered ceiling, and addressed Edward. "You should have lied."

He shrugged, but Esme made a soft noise of agreement.

"Well, wish me luck," I called, already heading upstairs. I carefully pushed the door to our bedroom open, the oiled hinges squeaking only slightly. Rosalie was on the chaise lounge, knees pulled up to her chest like a child.

I sat down on the end of chair and waited for her to move. It didn't take long before she sighed and curled up next to me.

Softly, I patted her on the head. "Do you love him?" I asked, after a few silent moments.

Her lips twisted in a wry smile. "Are you jealous, Emmett?"

I grimaced. She would know if I lied. "No. I mean, maybe a little." I, of course, already knew the answer to my question; I just wanted to hear her deny it. And she did, like I'd known.

"Of course I don't love him." Rosalie rolled her eyes, as though the idea was ludicrous. And it was. "Well, I do love him, in a way," she continued, "But not like that. Not like I love you."

I grinned. "That's good to hear."

She didn't smile back. "It's just that...he never considered it. Never considered _me_. I know it's incredibly vain to say, but who wouldn't, Em?"

"You'd have to be insane not to," I offered, not caring if Edward heard me. He would already know before I spoke the words anyway.

Rosalie smiled at my effort to cheer her up, her gold eyes lighting up. "Really?"

"Really," I confirmed.

"And does it help that I definitely considered it?" I added teasingly, not particularly wanting to have a serious conversation right now. Rosalie lifted a corner of her lips, as though she wanted to smile but was preventing herself from doing so.

"Yes," she decided at last, "It does. A lot, actually."

"Good," I replied, bending over to press my lips against her hair. She lifted her face to mine and kissed me briefly. An unspoken thank you. I smiled.

And then even though Rosalie probably knew I wanted to kiss her again (and actually do a whole lot more than that), she rested her head in my lap. I leaned back on the sofa, my arm slipping loosely around her waist.

This was just fine to me, though.

We closed our eyes and listened in silence to the sheets of rain that fell from the sky.

* * *

**A/N:** It's really short, I know, but I'll just use the excuse that it's an outtake. Review?


	30. Outtake III

**A/N:** Three fourths. This was, like, one of the only suggestions I ever got; plus, _two_ people suggested it. So I felt like I had to write it. XD

**Setting:** After chapter sixteen, or the baseball scene (and after) in _Twilight_. The main reason why this wasn't in the real story is that it's not very Rosalie/Emmett oriented; it's more of an Edward/Bella scene.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Twilight.

* * *

**Emmett.**

It was the ideal weather for a baseball game. Storm clouds, an occasional streak of lightning, and frequent thundering. Plus, there was no rain.

Although, I kind of liked when we played in the rain. It made everything so much more exciting. But Alice had said the storm would miss our regular clearing tonight. Plus, I kind of doubted Edward's new girlfriend would want to be soaked. Unfortunately.

Rosalie was still keeping up her blatant antagonism towards Bella. She had complained to me for a while when I offered to loan my jeep to Edward, seeing as probably wouldn't want to get his precious Volvo all muddy.

And I'd admit—though not to her—that it went in one ear and out the other, because despite how much I loved her, I still didn't agree with her about Bella.

He accepted my offer, but I wasn't sure if he really wanted it, or if it was just to annoy Rosalie. Maybe both.

But besides all of that, I was looking forward to the game.

Edward would surely be trying to show off for Bella, which would make it doubly entertaining to beat him. He'd give me hell for it, but I didn't really care about that.

We arrived early in the clearing, so Jasper and Alice began practicing, while Carlisle marked the bases. A few minutes later, the sound of running footsteps grew louder with every passing second.

Edward's voice was loud in the silence, only several yards away. "It's over, Bella." There was a sound of splashing mud, and a soft outcry. She must have fallen in the mud.

Next to me, Rosalie rolled her eyes, while there was an outburst of loud laughter that must have been Edward. After a boring conversation that I listened to only because I could hear it, they came into view, joined at the hands.

Esme got up at once and started towards them, but Rosalie hadn't even glanced in their direction and started off towards the field. I willed her to come back and be civil silently, but she didn't even look back at me. I sighed, but followed Esme.

"Was that you we heard, Edward?" she asked once she neared them.

"It sounded like a bear choking," I laughed, but I was unable to resist a quick glance backwards to where Rosalie had gone. Bella looked worried, and Edward shot me a glance, as if to say, weren't you supposed to be able to convince her?

But out loud he explained, "Bella was being unintentionally funny."

Alice ran over from where she had been practicing with Jasper. "It's time," she announced, as thunder boomed a few miles away. Perfect.

I couldn't stop a grin from spreading over my face. I looked towards Bella, who seemed uneasy.

"Eerie, isn't it?" I teased, as if this wasn't actually the first time we'd spoken, and winked. Even if I would never understand why exactly Edward loved her, that wouldn't stop me from being cordial. Unlike Rosalie.

I looked again at her back, a very obvious display.

Then Alice took my hand we ran towards the field. Quickly, we split up into two teams. Me, Jasper, and Rosalie on one, with Edward, Alice, and Carlisle on the other. We had a simple rotation to determine on the rare occasions when all of us played at once.

Esme, as usual, would be the referee and keep Bella company.

I picked up the bat at home plate, swinging it easily through the air.

"All right. Batter up!" Esme called from her place at the edge of the field. I frowned, concentrating on Alice, who was pitching. She smiled, and threw the ball. My eyes followed it a split quarter of a second too late; I didn't bother to swing.

The baseball flew directly into Jasper's waiting hands.

I scowled and adjusted my stance for a moment, then settled back into position, focusing even harder. Alice tossed the ball; I swung. I felt a deep satisfaction as the aluminum bat connected with the baseball, sending it high above the trees.

Edward was already gone, running after it. I ran, too, the bases flying past. First, second, third, home. And then Edward was speeding back, the baseball clutched in his hand. He'd caught it, which was unfortunately not very rare.

"Out!" Esme called. I swore, too quietly for anyone but Jasper, who was next to me, to hear.

"Emmett hits the hardest," I heard Esme tell Bella, "but Edward runs the fastest." He threw me a smug look as he tossed the ball to Alice. I gritted my teeth. Maybe this would be harder than I had thought.

But Rosalie had managed to get us a point, which was strange. She usually didn't really care as much as the rest of us about the game.

The game blurred by. I was pleased to say that we were actually doing pretty good. The score hovered, usually a tie or a couple of points difference between the two of our teams. I'd been right about Edward wanting to show off.

He was certainly doing well, even though he hadn't played any kind of sport with us in weeks. Or was it months?

And then Alice gasped, her eyes refocusing for a brief second. She and Edward shared a scared glance, and he immediately went to stand by Bella.

"Alice?" Esme asked. We all crowded around her, curious as to what she had seen.

"I didn't see—I couldn't tell," she whispered. Jasper stood next to her protectively.

Carlisle's voice was soothing, yet authoritative, as if he were talking to a patient at the hospital. "What is it, Alice?" After over fifty years of Alice being a part of our supposed "family," we were pretty much used to her visions.

"They were traveling much quicker than I thought. I can see I had the perspective wrong before...," she answered.

Oh. I finally pieced together what she'd seen.

"What changed?" Jasper asked quietly. "They heard us playing, and it changed their path," Alice said softly, head down as if she were responsible for it. We all glanced in unison at Bella, even Rosalie.

Carlisle turned towards him. "How soon?"

Edward concentrated intently. "Less than five minutes," he finally answered, "They're running—they want to play."

"Can you make it?" Carlisle glanced once again at Bella, who was staring at us blankly. I knew the answer was no, even before Edward said it himself.

"How many?" I asked Alice.

"Three," she answered gravely. I felt a strong desire to laugh. Only three, and they were all this worried?

"Three!" I repeated, scoffing, "Let them come!" Even four or five would have been fine. If it came to a fight (and I really hoped it would), we would probably win, seeing as there were seven of us. I rarely had had the chance to really fight, instead of the usual mock-fights with Edward and Jasper.

I flexed the muscles on my arms pointedly. But only Rosalie flashed me a slight smile; the rest were looking at Carlisle for a decision.

He deliberated. "Let's just continue the game," he decided, after a few moments, "Alice said they were simply just curious."

And we did, despite the fact that no one really cared about it anymore.

I glanced at Rosalie, a few yards away, but she was glaring angrily at Bella. I sighed inwardly. Couldn't she put away her prejudices just this once? Well...obviously not.

And then to the right came the sound of faint footsteps, three different pairs, heading this way. I tensed automatically as all of us turned to face the approaching vampires.

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**A/N:** Ah, that was painful. I don't like baseball much.

Anyway, the next (and last!) outtake is an extension of their wedding night I mentioned a few chapters back. I've already started writing this, so it should be up in a couple of days.

In the meantime, though, you could always review and tell me what you thought.


	31. Outtake IV

**A/N:** I figure most of you are on vacation, on account of the lack of reviews, but here's the last chapter. A companion to chapter six. Here's where the rating is stepped up to M, though I won't change the actual rating of the whole story itself.

**Warning:** Sexual content. Read at your own discretion.

**Disclaimer:** Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight.

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Emmett.

"You know, Rose, you don't have to do this," I said quietly. I walked slowly over to where Rosalie stood, staring at the huge bed in front of her.

I saw the insecurity shining in her eyes.

She pressed a finger to my lips. "Don't you see? I do have to do this. I have to forget what happened. Move on from it all."

Did she really believe those words? I doubted it.

Rosalie unpinned her hair, drowning me in the smell of roses. I took a deep breath, moving incredibly slowly towards her. My fingers traced the shallow planes of her naked back. She shivered, but didn't make any move to stop me.

I spoke the words I'd told her a thousand times, but they sounded different, new, in the air between us. "I love you, Rosalie."

She almost smiled. "Love you, too, Emmett." I pretended not to hear the sound of her voice shaking. I pulled her gently nearer towards the bed as my fingers caught one of the metal fastenings on her dress. I released it slowly, gauging her reaction. She didn't move, and her face remained expressionless and unreadable.

It was, in truth, difficult to restrain myself from tearing the flowing white garment off her. It had been almost a year since Rosalie had saved me, but I'd never gone so far as to actually undress her before this.

It had been unspeakably forbidden, a taboo. My fingers shook with an almost nervous anticipation.

"Have you...done this before?" she asked, face turned away embarrassedly, as I unfastened another clip.

"Yes," I answered, grinning at her discomfort with the question. I slid a finger gently down the length of her spine that I'd already exposed. Rosalie exhaled loudly, but again didn't protest.

Taking this as a good sign, I quickly undid the rest of the clasps.

The dress slid fluidly off her, pooling at the ground around her feet. The corset left behind did not, truthfully, leave much to the imagination. My hands automatically reached for the ties that held it in place, but Rosalie stopped me.

Her hands carefully slipped off the jacket of my tuxedo, fingers nimbly undoing the buttons of the shirt underneath. "Rose...," I began hesitantly, but she didn't look at me.

I let her slide off the white shirt, her movements stiff and seemingly forced. She tilted my head down to meet her open lips. It was impossible to pull away, to keep myself from reacting instinctively to her kiss. A low moan sounded involuntarily in the back of my throat.

My breathing was already shallow from her light touch, and I let out a gasp as her fingers pressed ever so lightly against the prominence at the front of my pants.

The thought to stop her occurred to me for almost a quarter of a second before I decided I simple didn't care enough to.

The towering bed was suddenly beneath us. Rosalie leaned over me, her hair falling into my face as her lips moved to my throat. She trailed kisses along the line of my jaw, her teeth slightly biting down on the skin. One of my hands, as though it was unconnected to my brain, cupped the smooth skin on the back of her leg.

The softness of the cotton sheets was nothing compared to her.

"Damn it, Rosalie." My voice was insistent, loud in the quiet, yet tension-filled air. Half a groan, half a protest. And the former was definitely stronger. "Emmett?" she answered, no trace of anything but desire in her voice, smooth as silk.

Rolling over so that our positions were switched, I found myself wondering how long it would take to rip off the thin fabric of her corset. Surely only a few seconds...

I forced myself to stay focused, though I wanted nothing more than to let her continue. "Are you...sure about this?"

Rosalie sighed. "Not exactly. But how sure do you expect me to be, Em?"

I tried, unsuccessfully, to release my hands, taking the last part rhetorically. "Then _why_?" I asked.

She nearly smiled again. "Would 'because I love you' work?" There was a rueful edge to her voice.

"Maybe," I allowed, already surrendering. Her lips were awfully close...

"Because I love you, then," Rosalie answered, pressing another fierce kiss to my lips before I could respond. And, truthfully, I couldn't quite find it in myself to argue with that.

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Rosalie.

I knew Emmett wanted this. And why put it off any longer? I wouldn't—and couldn't—do that to him.

And, I'd admit, a part of me—the less reasonable side—wanted this, too. I couldn't say that he had no effect on me in that way, for it would be a lie.

I gasped as Emmett buried his lips in the top of the lace edging of the corset. His fingers carefully undid the ribbons.

He was working hard, I could tell, to hesitantly remove both the thin undergarments that separated us. I knew how hard it must have been for him to do this so slowly, to test the water before jumping in.

He'd waited, so patiently and so long, for this.

To his credit, Emmett completely ignored what he'd just done, refraining from glancing at my exposed skin. He removed the rest of his clothing, leaving us both completely naked. The flickering light cast strange shadows over our pale skin.

I shivered as Emmett's fingers lightly traced my breast. He kissed me again, slowly shedding every one of his inhibitions until there was nothing left but pure love and lust.

I closed my eyes, seeing nothing but darkness under my closed eyelids as he entered me with what must have been near-agonizing slowness.

The pain came first, more mentally than anything else, the memory of that night clearer and sharper than I wanted to remember.

My fingers automatically clenched, nails sinking easily into his skin as I tried to stop myself from screaming.

But the pleasure soon followed, overwhelming every single inconsequential thought. I had to stop myself from crying out for a completely different reason. His own cries—mostly composed of rather vulgar variations involving my name—sent even more swirls of undeniable pleasure through me.

His mouth claimed mine again. The action was harsher and rawer than before, and it spoke louder and more passionately than his words ever could.

A hot, tightening sensation grew in my lower stomach, building with every single movement, uncomfortable yet somehow natural. Instinctual.

I didn't think about Royce. I didn't think about the night I was forever changed, in more ways than one. It seemed impossible that act and the one happening now were essentially the same things. But there was nothing that could have distracted me from Emmett.

"Rosalie." The moan that sprung from Emmett's lips was almost pained. "Open your eyes."

I did as he asked, without questioning his words. Emmett's face was inches from mine, his gold eyes euphoric and dazzlingly bright.

"I love you so much." His voice sounded deeper than I'd ever heard it. I would have responded likewise, but his thrusts grew faster, and nothing escaped my mouth except moans that sounded oddly guttural.

His teeth sank into my neck, where a crescent-shaped scar already stood out on my skin. I reacted instinctively, involuntarily, arching my back. My head tilted backwards, too, so that all I could see was the carefully-painted ceiling. Emmett hitched my leg up around his waist, driving him even further within me.

The sheer bliss blocked out_ everything_, so unlike what I'd imagined and feared and experienced before. The pressure in me mounted impossibly higher.

"Oh, _God_, Emmett," I gasped, breathless, "I...I think I'm going to—"

I didn't get to finish before he drove us both completely over the edge. I think I might have screamed. He certainly did, the obscenities he uttered sounding strangely musical.

My back arched almost violently against him again, and I squeezed my eyes shut again, seeing bright stars against the blackness of my eyelids. Hot liquid spilled down the insides of my legs, a burning mixture of both me and him.

Emmett moaned my name loudly, over and over and over again, and the words still sounded like music.

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The tremors eventually slowed, until I lay, still slightly winded, in his arms. The hesitation I'd felt so strongly seemed pointless now, a silly worry.

Emmett traced unfamiliar patterns over my naked skin, his touch so light I could hardly feel it.

And I opened my eyes at last. The world was startlingly clear, as if I was seeing it for the first time. Like a newborn baby.

The scene that greeted me was bizarre. Our bed was broken at an odd angle, and there seemed to be an awful lot of sawdust floating around.

Glancing up, I realized what had happened. There was a large, square hole gaping through the plastered ceiling. We'd crashed straight through the floor, into the parlor downstairs. If I were human, I would have been as red as the roses that laced the trellises outside. "Emmett?"

"Rosie?" His voice was languid, and it sent a now-familiar thrill of desire through me. The ache for him was surprisingly natural. I didn't even feel as tired as I surely should have.

"I think I know why Esme built all those spare bedrooms."

He opened his eyes at last, taking in the now-destroyed parlor. "Oh." The smile he wore was strangely cheerful.

"Is this _funny_ to you?" I asked in disbelief, "We just destroyed half of the house that was our wedding gift."

"Oh, I wouldn't say one half," answered Emmett, still smiling. He tugged playfully at my yellow curls, eyes drifting much too freely across my naked skin. "More like, one...fifth."

I rolled my eyes, but he didn't seem to notice or even care. And, truthfully, I couldn't bring myself to care much either. Not as much as I would have in any other circumstance.

"Want to go destroy the other four-fifths, then?" I teased automatically, surprised at the fervor in my voice.

The grin on Emmett's face got impossibly wider. "Did you even have to ask?"

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A/N:

I will most likely not be writing another story for Twilight.

Not only because I feel like I've exhausted my ability to write about Rosalie and Emmett after all this, but also because I honestly don't particularly like Twilight as much as I used to anymore.

I'll be writing more, but for _the_ _Hunger Games, Percy Jackson and the Olympians, Artemis Fowl_, and a few others. I hope to see some of you reviewing my other stories.

But thank you so, so much for reading this whole story. I never dreamed I'd get this many reviews, or have more than sixty people add this to their favorite stories. And a last thank you, in particular, to every single one of you who has reviewed, especially **BlissfullyHappy**, **TillITryIllNeverKnow**, **twilightrocks999**, and **JezCul666.**

I hope all of you enjoyed reading, both this chapter and all thirty others.

Kristina ;)


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